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levisgirll · 4 years ago

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hi mina! i'm back again to make a request for you because you write so wonderfully i can't-! it's okay if you don't want to write it tho :D

may i ask for some prince jean headcanons/scenario? maybe something like the reader is his maid or modist, and he's kinda in love :D (this is just an idea, feel free to modify, i trust in your magical writing skills!)

sorry for this messy request and thanks! take breaks and care sweetie <3

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲 (𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐔)

text: omg HII ANTI <3 I’m glad ur back with another request and I would happily write this for you cutie c; thank you for also finding my work nice ahh this really makes me happy that someone out there likes my writing and ideas djkjsk 🥺❤️❤️ okay but this is such a cute idea- its my first time writing a royal au so i hope it turned out okay and u liked it :,) make sure to also take care of yourself too bae 😌✨ okay I decided to make the reader a strong willed bodyguard instead of a maid cause I had some ideas for that instead so I hope that's alright 😭

synopsis: y/n has started to work for the kirstein royal family and due to their many great skills, abilities, attention to detail, and great self defense training, y/n was hired and trusted to be prince jean’s personal bodyguard! They have always admired prince jean and how handsome he is, later did they know not only y/n is developing feelings for jean but so does he, and he falls in love with y/n instantly! Although, something happens along the way....

fluff, lil bit mention of blood/knife, royal au ♡ —

Erwin has hired you to join the Kirstein royal family army, after two years training to be a solider to defend the country against the Jaegerists which were a rebel faction that wanted Eren to be the next king instead and to create a ‘New Jaeger Empire’. Also, wanting to protect the prince, which was one of your goals. You really admired prince Jean of how affectionate, kind, honest, and straightforward he is, you wanted to stay and be loyal to him.

Everything changes though when you graduated from the military training with your friends Connie and Sasha. Erwin had suddenly made you prince Jean’s personal bodyguard. “With your great skills y/n, and how loyal and strong you are, I think you will be a perfect choice to have the role as his personal bodyguard!”

You stood there, shocked, and your eyes were wide open. “M-Me Commander?....Of course! I would be honored to!” You will finally see jean, and be by his side! The thought of that would make your cheeks go red...it’s cause you are loyal to him right?

Erwin escorted you and took you to Prince jean who you spotted was sitting on the dinner table hall. “Erwin...! Huh? Who’s that?” Jean was quick to notice your presence, and he was quite taken aback with your presence.

“Your new personal bodyguard Prince Jean. With how bad the situation is going, you never know who will come and attack you. So, Y/N here is going to be by your side and make sure they protect you. If you also ever need anything, you can ask Y/N.” Erwin patted on your back and you went forward and saluted to Jean. “A-At your service Prince Jean!”

“O-Oh...alright then, whatever.” He got up and walked past you both, leaving the dinning hall, you could have sworn you saw his cheeks went a bit red. “He is usually like this at the beginning, but he seems to like you!”

As the days passed, you and Prince Jean actually got along pretty well which made your bond stronger. He seemed to be the kind of person who wouldn't care from the outside, but you realized he cared about everyone and when it came to you...he would always ask if you are doing well. Things seemed to be fine at the moment, for now.

“Young master! You have a meeting with the chairman at Trost District soon.” You said as you were next to Jean, catching up with his pace. “Okay, let's get going then!” He gave you a grin which made you blush, as the both of you approached the carriage, he went ahead and opened the door for you! “Well, are you getting in or not?” You felt all eyes on you, and heard some gasps. ‘It should be the other way around!’ you thought as you got inside while feeling so embarrassed.

You were both alone sitting down in the carriage and you could feel Jean’s eyes all over you, “Young mas-” you were stunned when he held your hands and you looked at his eyes that was searching your gaze. “Don't call me that when we are alone....Didn’t I tell you that?” You couldn't hold it, you were a blushing mess now!

“Okay...J-Jean, why did you do that? People will get the wrong idea..” Lately, Jean has been very affectionate towards you, although you had to admit you had a crush on him, but you could never say that to him.

“So? Y/N...I don't care what others think about us, I care about what you think instead.” He started to caress your hands while still looking at your eyes, “M-Me?” He nodded, waiting for your answer but you pushed away gently and looked away. “Well, it’s my duty...to protect you and serve you.” You tried to change the subject while still looking outside the window, but....you noticed something off? Where is this carriage heading too?

“No! Y/N that’s not it...I meant I...” He came closer to you, too close to your face while he was blushing madly, you touched his chest to try and push him back a bit, and you felt his heart beat like crazy. Is he...nervous?

“Jean. Not now I-” As you tried to finish what you were trying to say, the carriage stopped suddenly which made you and Jean fall. “What the hell?” He yelled out and looked at you immediately, full of concern. “Are you okay?”

“Young master stay inside!” Before he could stop you, you open the carriage door and stepped out, while shutting it tight. You brought your sword out and examined the area and situation. ‘The carriage man is gone...we are in the woods...and I sense someone, but who?!’

“Come out, whoever you are...or perhaps you are a Jaegerist?” As soon as you said that, a sword was seen to be thrown out at you and you quickly stopped it by slashing it to hit on the other direction with your long strong sword.

“Hmph, you seem to be smart.” You head turned quick to the direction where you heard the voice. You saw a middle aged man with a tousled auburn hair “And? Who the fuck is asking?” You pointed your sword at him with a stoic expression, showing him no fear. “It’s Floch, and if you could do me a favor how about you just leave and let me deal with the Prince okay?”

You let out a chuckle, then gave him a death glare. “Make me.”

“Fuck, you are stubborn, let me just finish you off!! Don't you get it? This crappy prince doesn't deserve to be the next king to rule us!! It should be Eren!” He yelled out and brought out a knife and charged at you, you put your sword away and decide to do hand-to-hand combat on him. You took your stance and when he was near you, Y/N pushed the knife down and then quickly did the grappling technique, which took him down completely.

“Young Master! Call the headquarters for backup, we were tricked and put in a trap!” You said as you were trying to hold on to Floch, not letting him escape. “O-On it!”

“It’s quiet....too quiet no way this guy came alon-” You looked up and you saw someone charging at you with their sword, she was fast and you quickly got up and brought your sword to stop her attack for defense.

‘F-Fuck...that was close.’ You backed away and looked at the carriage, ‘He needs to be safe...’ you wondered and started to worry.

“About fucking time Mikasa!” Floch shouted out as he rubbed his hands which you held on tightly earlier. “Wait...I know you! Ackerman right? It's a privilege to meet you.” Mikasa Ackerman, she was one of the Ackerman that stood behind and did not serve the Kirstein royal family, but instead stood by Eren’s side and believed in him.

“And your Y/N, the strong bodyguard. Please step aside.” She sounded very serious and looked strong. The rumors were true, she did neglect the royal family and went with the Jaegerists rebel group.

‘Ha...who would have known this mission would be a complete disaster!’ You thought and as you were preparing to attack, until Jean came out of the carriage with his sword and pointed at them. “Don't Hurt Y/N!!”

Your eyes widened as you turned your head to look at him. “Young Master! What the hell are you doing? Don’t come out and run away!”

“B-But...” Jean stuttered and looked at you, he did not want to leave you behind and run like a coward, leaving behind....the most important person to him that he cared about the most. “No! I promised to protect you, so ru-” Being distracted by Jean, everything now seem to have stopped for you and there was a pitch silence. You looked in front of you and felt what seemed like a dagger stabbed towards your side waist, blood was dripping and the one who stabbed you was Floch!

“Floch...! Why?! That was not part of the plan!” Mikasa yelled out, and what seemed to be shocked by his action. Everything was going too quickly for you, you placed your hand on his shoulder and shoved him away which made him fall back. You gripped your waist and yelled out, “I-If it’s meant to protect the Prince...Then come at me!”

You heard lot’s of horses approaching and you finally spotted Erwin’s squad who finally came for backup. You noticed Levi by Erwin’s side and as soon as he saw you bleeding, he got provoked and got off from his horse and charged at Mikasa. “An Ackerman with an Ackerman, Hm? Traitor, let me deal with you.”

You let out a sigh, now knowing the Prince is safe and Levi and Erwin’s squad was here to help you guys out. Jean ran towards you and held on to you as you fell down on your knees “Y-Y/N!!”

“Why....Why didn’t you run away?” You said softly and trying to stay conscious, Jean quickly placed his hand on your cheek while the other arm was used to hold your body, “Cause I care about you Damnit!”

You gave him a weak smile and held on his hand that was placed on your cheek, “Did I do...my best to serve you?” Was all you could say and you slowly passed out due to the blood loss you had and you heard Jean's voice drifted slowly.

After a couple of hours have passed, you woke up what seemed to be in a hospital, and you were wrapped around bandages. You moved a bit which made you wince at the pain from your side abdomen.

“Don’t move around! You are still injured and you haven’t healed yet.” A girl with long beautiful blonde hair said, full of concern in her tone as she came closer to you and checked up on you. Her large blue eyes were examining your injury to see if the wound was closed up. “A-And you are?”

“I’m Historia! A nurse who is looking after you. Doctor Hanji told me to stay by your side until you wake up.” She said with a big smile and she looked like an angel to you.

“W-Where is the Prince! Is he okay?!” You said all worried and started to panic. “Haha, Don't worry! He is fine, thanks to you protecting him! He told me to notify him when you wake up but I think you need to rest a bit longer.”

You let out a sigh, ‘At least he is fine...but I want to see him.’ You wondered and looked outside the window to let your thoughts run around your mind as you slowly closed your eyes to rest.

“Y/N...Hey Y/N wake up.” You felt a rub against your shoulders and you opened your eyes to see Prince Jean looking down at you with a relief escaping his mouth. “I’m glad you are looking fine, but are you doing okay?”

You slowly got up which Jean held on your arm for support, “Y-Yea, thanks for stopping by...Jean.” You were blushing at how he suddenly started to caress your arm, then up your shoulders. He went in closer and gave you a tight hug around your shoulders. “Damn it! I thought I was gonna lose you today, that’s it...I'm not backing away with this anymore.” He pulled back, and was looking at your face. “J-Jean...What do you mea-”

“Y/N, I love you. I loved you ever since I first saw you coming and you were always by my side, but in a way that made me feel calm, good and I felt your warmth all the time it would make me fall for you even more everyday...Being with you feels right to me!” He stopped talking and looked away, he was clearly embarrassed on what he just said, the prince was confessing to you and he was finally saying that he was falling in love with you!

You were shocked, was he actually saying this all? Was the Prince actually confessing to you? You couldn't help yourself but smile to what he said and you finally held his hands, “I...I feel the same way too!” You let out now a big smile and tears started to form on your eyes, you felt so happy and so did he.

He looked behind to make sure the door was closed and then looked back at you who was now approaching your face closely and he started to give you a passionate kiss, you held on his hands while he was holding your face, lifting it up and he kept on kissing you. The night had a nice cold breeze and the window was slightly open which made the wind come in and that made your hair flow slowly as you both continued to kiss slowly and gently.

Jean pulled back and you both were breathing heavily, by the looks of it, you could tell you were Jean’s first kiss. He wanted to kiss you again and again, “I’m now love sick cause of you.”

The night went out so peacefully and you both enjoyed each others company while holding hands and caressing each others cheeks when talking about various topics and he went on explaining how brave and strong you were today when you stood up and fought against Floch and Mikasa. He found your confidence very attractive. He felt like a lucky man to have you by his side and he promised you that after he becomes king he would make you his.

𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 : Usually in the evenings, he would sneak into your place because he begged that he wanted to see you and stay at your place for a couple of hours to cuddle and kiss you. It was his favorite place in the world cause it was just y/n and him, alone. “Okay Jean, you have to go now!” You said blushing at how clingy Jean was towards you, hugging your waist. “Please just another 5 minutes babe, besides come on it’s just you and me tonight.” Jean would say playfully while he would give you a soft kiss on your scar that was on your waist ♥

okay but this was a really fun royal au I wrote up and I'm kinda glad how the first time I'm writing it went well! thanks anti for the request again and I hope you liked it <3 and if anyone else did please then leave a like or a reblog! it would mean a lot c:

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regenlen · 3 years ago

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For @dmc-oc-week!

It’s here! Normally this is where some sweet art would go, but I can do stick figures at best so you’re going to have to use your imagination.

Instead, have a fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25111381

It's a longfic about Nero and Vergil's search for answers about Nero's mother, Mel, and what became of her. It’s 115+k words of alternating between the present day, where the two of them (with some help) investigate what happened to Mel and why she seemingly disappeared and abandoned Nero, and the past through Vergil’s flashbacks to his time with her.

One part mystery, one part Sparda family drama, one part a study of traumatized men and their emotional constipation, and one part regret simulator: the Vergil edition. If you’ve got time to kill, please do check it out! Below is the prologue to help give a little taste.

One warm day in June, at the apex of the Qliphoth, a fight to the death unfolds between two brothers of blood whose ideals have repeatedly sent them on a collision course with each other. But this fight isn’t destined to end like the others have. It starts out rather similarly, but things take a turn when Dante drops a very, very unexpected bombshell on Vergil. “You cut off your own son’s arm for this?”

Vergil hears the words, but he doesn’t really process them. He just reacts at the opening Dante’s left. He quick-steps and slashes Dante, slicing open a wound in his shoulder before Dante can get his sword up to block. What he does process is Dante’s judgmental, angry tone, and he instinctively balks against it. “My son means nothing to me!” He says the words without actually thinking through the ramifications. (Noticing a pattern here yet?)

He’s met with absolute fury. Dante yells and summons Cerberus. Vergil barely realizes it’s out before it’s hooked his right ankle. He’s yanked forward and has to awkwardly hop to try and steady himself. It leaves him wide open to a slam from Dante’s sword, and he’s sent careening across the arena. It smarts, and Vergil struggles to get going again. But he’s ready when Dante comes charging. Just in the nick of time he dodges his attack and counters with a swipe of Yamato. Dante barely manages to block the blow with his sword, but the force of the attack has him sailing away and colliding against one of the pillars at the edge of the arena.

Vergil falls to a crouch, breathing deeply to try and regain his strength. As his adrenaline subsides and allows him to think clearly again, Dante’s earlier words finally sink in. Did he just say…? He shakes his head in disbelief and looks up at Dante. He can’t believe – but when – what?! “Nero… is my son?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Dante says. “You can’t remember through that thick skull of yours?”

His son. He has a son. That boy whom he had maimed, who had helped him when he had been at his lowest and had been decent to him, is his flesh and blood. And yes, he can remember through his thick skull, because there’s only one person it could be. Even after the long passage of time and the havoc Mundus’s torture wrought on his mind, he remembers her. The realization releases an onslaught of heartbreak and regret. “Well, well… That was a long time ago.”

Dante laughs a little. “I guess you were young once, too.”

He had been once, yes. Young and ambitious and very, very foolish. It hurts to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about it. He wants to focus on this fight and not on the torrent of emotions swirling in his head. Vergil assumes a battle stance, and Dante begins to do the same.

“As much as I’d love to hear that story,” Dante says, “I think it’s about time we…”

“Ended this,” Vergil finishes, fully assuming his pose. They can’t ignore this fight. They need to settle this, for once and for all. It beats dwelling on things he can’t change.

They bring out their super powered devil forms and hurl themselves at each other in a last bid to conclude their feud. But of course, nothing ever goes the way the brothers expect, because there’s one thing they didn’t count on: Nero.

There’s a flash of light and the deafening sound of something hitting the ground at an alarming speed. The brothers find themselves halted dead in their tracks, held back by the only other person who has a say in this feud of theirs.

When Dante and Vergil just manage to process what’s happening, they’re shoved back and sent skidding across the ground.

“What form of power is this?” Vergil wonders at the spectral arms resting on Nero’s back. But more than that, he’s gobsmacked by how Nero had managed to not only reobtain the power he’d been robbed of, but how he also had become stronger in such a short amount of time.

“What the hell?” Dante groans from across the way.

“This ends, right here.” Nero looks at neither his uncle nor father, but he’s clearly addressing both of them.

Vergil grimaces as he stands up. This is an unexpected development, to say the least. Nero initially had come to this city to kill him. Vergil didn’t think that would change, even after learning the truth. But it seems the boy has another goal in mind. He wants to make sense of it, but his mind still reels at the implication that this young man is his son. Yes, he looks like him and has the same powers, but he still can’t quite believe…

“Listen to me,” Dante seethes as he walks towards Nero. “I told you already, this is not your-”

Nero doesn’t even blink as of those arms lashes out with frightening speed and hits Dante square in the jaw. He goes down like a sack of bricks.

“You listen, dead weight. I won’t let you kill each other. There are other ways of settling your differences.” Nero turns, fist gripped tightly as he slowly approaches Vergil. “I’m putting a stop to this sibling rivalry.”

And for a moment, Vergil isn’t on the Qliphoth, but in a small apartment in Fortuna. And it’s not Nero staring him down, but a young woman with short, curly blonde hair and green eyes. She and Nero hardly look alike, but they share the same determined stare and set of their jaw.

Vergil shoves the memory aside, trying to forget that face and the conflicting emotions it brings with it. He instead forces out a laugh. “Ahh, you came all this way just for that.”

“Vergil… V… whatever you call yourself, Dante’s not going to die here and neither are you. Do you have a problem with that?”

Yes, he did come all this way just to stop them. Vergil thinks it’s a bit foolish; how does he think he’ll go about doing this, exactly?

“‘Not gonna die,’ my ass,” Dante complains as he sits up, rubbing his jaw. “That bitch slap nearly killed me.”

Dante’s words bring Vergil out of his reverie. They also set off that part of his brain that short circuits his sense of logic. Because instead of trying to level with his son like a normal person should, he hyperfixates again on his grudge match with Dante. He nods and swings Yamato into his other hand. “If I beat Nero… then by default, I beat you.” He points Yamato at Nero. “Agreed, Dante?”

“Whatever. I don’t really care. I’m just gonna sit this one out.” Dante falls back onto the ground.

There’s a heavy moment of silence as Nero’s expression hardens, unflinching in the face of Yamato’s blade pointing at him. “When this is over, I’ll make you submit…” Those spectral arms lift up, and the hands crack their knuckles. “Father.”

Father. It pulls at a heartstring Vergil never knew he had, and with it, he realizes just a moment too late that maybe, just maybe this isn’t a good idea. Now faced with actually having to fight his own son, doubt creeps in. Vergil slowly circles back a bit. When Nero swings out his sword, Vergil’s back goes ramrod straight. No, I can’t do this. I shouldn’t have- “Stand down,” he says. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Nothing to do with me?!” Nero shouts. “It has everything to do with me!”

“Nero…”

FUCK YOU!” Nero flips him off and transforms into his devil state.

Vergil now has no choice but to fight. But as Nero charges at him, sword swung out, an amused thought crosses his mind: …you are, without a doubt, your mother’s son.

#dmcocweek #fic #devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #vergil #dante #nero

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delicrieux · 5 years ago

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queens, half past ten | p.p.

pairing: peter parker (as spiderman) x reader

summary: walking home alone at night is terrifying with your phone being dead, but, heh, spiderman is on patrol and you’re really craving starbucks.

warnings: nothing! fluff and pinning only xx

words: 2.2k

author’s note: this is part of my social media au BE MY VALENTINE! but it can also be read as a standalone fic!!

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

masterlist | buy me coffee☕. previous. next.

heading home from a concert under normal circumstances would be an adventure-esque movie/music clip where you’d listen to music and stare longingly out the window and into the shadow shrouded streets, faraway blinking lights from either cars or buildings. you’d imagine what it would be like to be a lead singer, or a drummer, or better yet the guitarist, and what all of that would entail. how you’d perform and smile and scream the lyrics along with adoring fans, how you’d get free drinks (when you’re legal), and how you’d have many bowie-esque backstage shenanigans.

alas, your phone is dead and you are stuck in confining silence, with nothing but the occasional whine of a passing car making you jump. the night is cold; smoke leaves your lips with each breath and you are eerily aware how loud your breathing is. the streets are bare —work night, no one really hangs around this late — and you feel like the only person in the world, but in a bad way. normally you’d call mj or jess and chat away about your experience at the concert, smile so hard your cheeks would hurt. now you hurry down the streets, itching to get home as soon as possible. not safe. pepper spray is grasped inside your pocket, but knowing you, if an attack (god forbid!) would happen, you’d probably spray yourself in the face and be doomed for. how did you forget to charge your phone? your friends must be worried sick. your mom would probably be too, if it wasn’t for the fact that you told her your at mj’s and she thinks you’re eating snacks and gossiping at the moment. instead you’re walking home alone with no means of communication. oh my god, no one would even be able to find you if you disappeared.

scaring yourself to death won’t help, nor make the walk shorter, or so you concluded. alas, you can’t help being on edge. if you saw a person now you’d probably burst into tears.

worst fears come true. the night had been amazing but it seems that everything is going downhill when you pass a pub. some loiter next to the door and smoke, their eyes trailing you as you walk past. bad bad bad. not everyone is evil, but you never know! being a girl is hard enough without the crushing fear of going home alone. you quickly disappear around a corner, sharp turn, you’re really working up a sweat by walking so quickly. the worst has passed, you think, sighing.

then someone has the fucking nerve to whistle at you. you thought this only happens in movies, but no, reality is just as cruel. you keep your head down and pick up the pace, but before much else—

“hey!” you jump and snap your head to a nearby lamppost, eyes wide in horror, heart hammering in your chest, but relax once you see it’s just spiderman. he gives an awkward wave, sitting quite comfortably on the lamp, legs swinging, as if he’s bored. staring as him, you uncertainly wave back, “sorry, i didn't mean to scare you.” he says, his voice deep and strange and somehow familiar. “i just uhh— heard those guys whistle at you and figured you’d appreciate the company. not safe in this part of town.”

you really don’t know what to say as he makes his way down to stand beside you. you hadn’t prepared to meet a superhero tonight, and certainly not one you had been actively stalking on social media for a better part of the year. oh my god. he’s really next to you, isn’t he? had he noticed you liking all of his posts? dear god, you hope not. suddenly rooted in spot, breath spent, cheeks aflame, you are thankful it’s so dark outside.

“i’m uhhh spiderman.” he introduces.

you manage to give him a shy smile, “...hi.”

mj will freak when she hears this. you will too once you process what’s happening. worlds are colliding in your very eyes. you have a hopeless crush on him, though now... is it really that hopeless? it’s fate. you don’t believe in fate, but any other explanation escapes you. he awkwardly mutters for you to lead the way and you two fall into pace. yet you don’t feel much calmer, rather now you’re nervous, but in a good way. you trust him. instantly. there is something familiar about his stance, his demeanor, yet you can’t quite place it. you wonder what he looks like behind his mask and sneak a glance at him. there is no way to tell. but your guess? hm... couldn’t be anyone like timothee chalamet, spiderman has some bulk on him. evan peters? maybe, but the aura doesn't quite fit. ross lynch?

you glance at him again, smiling to yourself a little. could be like ross lynch — brown hair, kind eyes —...what if it is ross lynch? can’t be that far of a stretch, most superheroes are hot (you’ve seen captain marvel, or just, as most dub her, god). but if it really is, you’ll faint.

you quickly fix your hair, somewhat self-conscious. you must look a mess right now. how will he fall in love with you when you’re all red and sweaty?

“so... what have you been up to?” he asks. he’s interested. good start. you have to swallow down a manic giggle.

“i went to this concert with my friend.” you say, a bit breathless, “it was so, so much fun, i just forgot to charge my phone so...” you tilt your head to him, flash him your most lovely smile, “i’m glad you showed up.”

“just uhhh—“ he fumbles, “doing my job! yes.”

“i know you’re like super busy—“ you continue shyly, hooking a strand of hair behind your ear (you are too good at this. if it wasn’t love at first sight, it sure as hell going to be at second), “—fighting crime, saving people... so it means a lot that you... you know... are not doing that right now to make sure i make it home safely.”

most don’t know this (with the exception of mj, that is) but you are very sly and calculating when you need to be. so you, gracefully and absolutely ‘unintentionally’, step closer to him, walking side by side, shoulders brushing. he fidgets, anxious, and you can only assume he is a bit flustered under that mask of his. your heart skips happy beats. you wonder if you whined enough would he web-sling you back to your apartment. you’ve never flown before. it must be exhilarating.

“your safety is just as important, (n—“ he promptly shuts up, swallows, then clears his throat, “uh... what’s your name, again?” you introduce yourself with another love-struck smile, “haha, i’m spiderman...” he chuckles nervously.

you lean in. he freezes. “i know.”

“so, uh, anyway, anything else i can do for you?” he wonders aloud, his voice unnaturally deep. you wonder if his throat hurts from putting all that stress on his vocal cords. alas, his identity must be kept top secret -- if it really is ross lynch, you understand that his career as a heartthrob is more important -- and so you refrain from questioning him. though, now that you think about it, you are a bit parched. power walking home really takes a lot out of the body, and you could definitely use a sugary drink. probably not the best idea, but you still have a mountain of homework, so it’s not like you’ll go to sleep once you’re actually home.

besides, the more time you spend with this, presumably, insanely handsome superhero - the better.

“actually...” you say with a dreamy smile, “i’d go for a drink right now. like starbucks. oh yea, definitely starbucks.” as overpriced as their coffee is, the flavor is impeccable.

spiderman is quiet for a moment, possibly considering whether to dismiss you or not, or trying to locate the nearest starbucks in the map of his mind.

lastly, “sure.” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice, “there’s one a few blocks down...i think.”

“ahh...” you nod, looking down at your shoes wistfully. no, they are not uncomfortable, actually the opposite of that. but he doesn’t know that. this is your one and only chance to see the city from a birds eye view, and there is no chance in hell you’re missing out on it. you’ll scam your way into anything.

“are you scared of heights?” he suddenly asks.

you jerk, startled, wide-eyed, in absolute disbelieve that your cheap tricks are actually working, “...no. why?” you narrow your eyes, all suspicious and pretend like.

he opens his arms, “well...come here.”

“what?”

“we’re taking a shortcut. will be fun, promise.” he insists. you heart roars in joy. he is so in love with you. fighting a grin, you sling your arms over his neck, and his arm snakes it’s way around your waist, pressing you close.

“just...hold on tightly.” you can barely hear him over the drum of your heartbeat. and before you can prepare - physically and mentally - you’re shot into the air, wind in your ears, adrenaline in your veins.

the city goes in vertigo and you laugh, wondrous and scared out of your wits, but excited all the same. the glimmering lights, car beeps and snippets of conversation fade into an incoherent whistle. your eyes start to water and so you shut them for a moment, before opening them again and seeing queens from so far up before your vision blurs as you race forward.

when he sets you down, you’re on shaky legs, hair a mess, smile so wide it hurts your cheeks but you can’t help it.

“that was...” you start, breathless, “so...so awesome. best uber i’ve ever had.”

“five stars?”

“i’d give you ten if it was possible.”

starbucks is up and running and unsurprisingly empty of patrons and the two of you slowly walk over, mindful of your wobbly stance. he grasps your shoulder, steadying you, and you nod at him gratefully. being the true gentleman he is, he opens the door for you with a dramatic bow, and you giggle a you enter.

“yo!” the barista, a young college student, calls, “sup, spiderman?”

“hey, george.”

“friend of yours?” you whisper to him.

“yep. two free coffees, coming right up.” he mutters back, stalking to the counter before you can stop him. your orders are usually complicated and absolutely bizarre, but you suppose something simple for this hectic night wouldn't be that bad--

your mouth falls open when he says the exact order of your favorite drink. word for word. even the pronunciation is similar. and for himself he picks peter’s go-to. the barista, you suppose calling him george would be appropriate, nods and goes to fix your drinks. you wander to spiderman, blushing.

“how...did you know my favorite order?” you pipe up.

“oh-uh... i’m good at reading people.” he explains quickly, “it’s uhh--...part of my superpower.”

“wow, that’s awesome, wish i had powers.” you say, “actually, you ordered peter’s fav.” you admit, “oh! uh, peter’s my friend.”

“he sounds like a really cool dude.”

“you...don’t know anything about him?”

“uh...it’s the name. peter’s a strong name. for a...strong cool guy.”

“he’s kind of a dork, to be honest.” you mutter with a soft smile, “but he’s really sweet.”

“so...you like him?”

“‘course i like him!” you say, just as george announces your drinks are ready, “he’s my friend.” you finish, quickly maneuvering past him to get your coffee.

“right...friend...”

there was a mutual agreement to walk back, since neither of you wanted to risk spilling your drinks on unknowing townies or yourselves. to your surprise, he had lifted his mask up, just a bit, to expose his jaw and lips and to sip his delicious drink. and yes, you might have stared excessively and shamelessly, and yes, you were almost convinced it was ross lynch himself walking you home, and yes, the urge to kiss him for this fantastic date came in waves. one moment you wanted to throw your arms around him and taste the coffee drops on his lips, but the next you recoiled and re-thought your approach. alas, your street came into view all too quick.

you stop, and so does he, and with a somewhat sad smile, you say, “well, i won’t keep you any longer. there’s probably a robbery happening or something, and i’m...” you turn away, see your apartment complex looming, “home.”

“uh—yea, totally.” he nods, “uhm...it was a pleasure to meet you, (name). i had fun.”

now or never.

instead of giving him some lame, forgettable goodbye, you throw your arms around him and squeeze tightly, smiling into his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you loosely, stiffly, as if uncertain whether it’s the right thing to do or not. blushed like a rose, you tilt your head and land a soft kiss on the side of his lips, “that’s for good luck.” you murmur, smiling deliriously, lastly pulling a way and waving, “and for the record, i had fun too.”

he says nothing, too stunned to move.

you, in the elevator, your dead phone grasped in your hand, feeling like your heart might bust out of your chest, and he, sitting on a roof of a nearby building, watching, waiting for the light in your room to turn on as an indication that you’re finally safe, mutter: “holy shit.”

tags(i wasn’t able to tag the italicized!): @toospicy-peppermint - @badbitsh13 - @hotshot-deserves-more-love - @bitcheekun - @songofcosplay - @magical-spit - @stxrtreatment - @kxssiewrites - @captain-lovemeplease - @myangelarcade - @goldenrunaway

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wincestisasincest · 5 years ago

Note

Okay hear me out... An image of time travel Beatles in 2020 meeting reader, a really young teenage singer like Billie Eilish. I feel like they would coach her on avoiding rabid fangirl crowds like sweet older brothers which makes her go "🥺". Just a thought 💚💫

Ahh! Sorry this took tooooooooooo long to answer, I was thinking of something to write.

************

You snapped a picture, angling the camera in a way that captured your stylist's intricate braiding perfectly. This was a lot fancier than you would normally wear, however, you were never afraid to be extra for awards. You would be accepting your first Billboard Music Award this night, as your first record had gone platinum almost instantly, and you had to look your best. Besides, looking confident helped hide how nervous you actually were.

"Car's 'ere, (Y/N)." The Scouse accent slipped through the doorway into your hotel room. You could already tell from the sweetness in the voice that it was George, gently warning you of what was to come.

"Yeah, hurry up girl! We've got an award to accept, have you heard?" John's rambunctious personality also stood in the doorway, eagerly waiting for you to finish up.

They were waiting on you, of course. Ever since they had popped into the year 2020 out of nowhere, they'd fallen into your poor, beleaguered hands as the only person who would could tolerate their nonsense while still remaining sane, partially because you were on that same line of nonsense yourself.

They'd supported your music career when no one else would, both through practical and emotional advice, and so finally, when you had "made it," as they would say, it only made sense for you to invite them to see you claim the glory.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." You shouted back, taking one more glance at yourself in the mirror. Your red dress, while wonderfully elegant, was still short enough to perform in, and thankfully, since you were so young, you were spared from having a plunging neckline this season.

Without another moment to consider your trepidation, you stepped into your black heels and clacked out into the hallway. George was already down the hall, constantly looking back, being dragged along by John, who was muttering about "them leaving without us." Paul, meanwhile, patiently stood with Ringo in front of the door adjusting his cufflinks. Ringo smiled at you.

"You look radiant, love." You could see the pride glinting in his eyes. "Thanks, Rings. Though this will be an absolute pain to walk in." You lifted up one of your legs before regaining your footing on your heels.

"I never got how you birds managed to move around in those. It's a right torture device." Paul was still fiddling with his cufflinks.

"Worth it for the style." You flipped one of your braids over your shoulder before continuing down the hallway, flanked by Paul and Ringo.

The elevator trip down reminded you that the two lads across from you were not nearly as nervous as you were, which didn't make a lick of sense to your 17 year old brain. Especially as "Best New Artist" you had to make an impression, and there was no room for mistakes. It wasn't just the news reporters, but the rabid army of fans that were known to loiter outside the building.

You huddled into the long black limousine, across from John and George.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up." John quipped, though George just smiled earnestly.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, ma'am." You retorted, taking part in his elementary humor.

The driver turned the ignition, and the car lurched forward, your stomach with it. You attempted to look out the window so you could have some peace of mind, but all you could see was the bustling city of LA, so starkly different from your hometown. Everyone but you seemed to be handling the weight of this situation perfectly.

"Nervous?" George grinned from the other side of the car.

"A little, I suppose." You were still peering out the window.

"Ah, don't worry about it! You've handled worse!" Paul gave you a small smack on the arm.

"Yeah, I guess so." Your amazing confidence that they had all come to expect from you was not shining through anymore.

"And besides, if anything goes wrong, we'll be there!" Ringo was so wonderfully optimistic it hurt sometimes.

"Yeah, we are experts in the field, after all." John added.

"Music, maybe, but this is different." You turned back to them, folding your arms protectively.

"No it's not! Who d'ya think started all a' this?" John gestured around to the slowly amassing crowd as you got closer and closer to the awards venue. The camera flashed in your eyes, and onlookers creeped behind each other trying to get some glimpse as to who was behind those windows.

"Yeah, ours are just old now." Ringo nodded sagely.

"Hell, it was almost worse then, because no one knew what to expect! That amount of fans was-"

"Wait a minute, you were famous?" You interrupted Paul, who smirked playfully. The car chuckled.

"Famous for sure. They thought we were gods. At the very least it's nice to be back in a world where you don't mean much to most people." George adjusted his tie.

"Helpin' the next generation of youngins." John took on the voice of an old lady with that last word.

"Well then, what wisdom have you to offer?" You didn't expect them to think of things that quick, but the responses were almost instant, each band member going off individually like firecrackers.

"Stick with your body guard."

"Don't try to shake hands or touch them. They may pull."

"Look them in the eye. They'll be satisfied after that."

"Watch out for people throwing things."

"Focus on an object in the distance."

"Don't let them get near your hair."

"Don't trip."

"Walk in the center."

"Let your the staff do the pushing and the shoving."

"Photos are good, but the only ones that will matter are the ones that the reporters are takin’."

"Don't look directly at camera flashes." You felt dizzy, as each of them leaned in closer to you to offer their sage advice. The semicircle around you was full of lunatics, that's for sure, but experienced lunatics none-the-less.

"And above all," Paul said, "Don't be caught alone outside the venue."

"'S practically a death sentence." John agreed.

"I hate to say it, but especially if you're a bird. Be careful." George looked you in the eye. Ringo was looking out the window.

"This is it." Ringo turned from the window to look at you.

"Yes it is." You took a long, deep breath. The car stopped. Your heart missed a beat.

A man in a a suit with long, white coattails approached your car and opened the door. The lads clambered out first, before the man offered you a hand as you stepped out of the limousine.

The first thing that met your ears was a wave of screams and cheers. You squinted, and could no longer mix camera flashes with just the lights of the venue. You tried to stand up tall but your legs felt wobbly. One step forward. You could feel it. Your knees were about to buckle. Your vision started to get dizzy. One half of your body weakened and slipped a little as your heel pulled.

An arm caught yours and supported your stance, keeping you upright on your heels.

“Don't faint on me now, birdie." John spoke in your ear. There was no need to whisper, as there was no way anyone but you would hear him over the noise.

You smiled to yourself. Surrounded by your four favorite boys in the world, you took another step forward, this one far more confident than the last.

#the beatles #Beatles #the beatles x reader #beatles x reader #John Lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #George Harrison #george harrison x reader #Ringo Starr #ringo starr x reader #modern!reader #time travel #ask

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kumeko · 4 years ago

Photo

A/N: For the Inosuke zine! I loved those few, rare panels of Inosuke & Nezuko interactions and I’m disappointed there wasn’t more for them.

…

Inozuke gasped as a giant hand grabbed his neck, fingers digging into his flesh as it constricted his breathing. In the dark night, with the clouds hiding the cowardly moon, he could only make out a big, hulking figure on the other side of the hand. The air was filled with a putrid scent, the smell of decay and death. A clicking sound sounded through the air and Inosuke had heard that noise before, had been in this position before.

Before he could wrap his head around the sense of deja vu, the hand tightened its grip, long nails piercing his skin. Clawing at his attacker in a desperate effort to free himself, Inosuke wheezed, “Let go!”

The clicking sound grew louder, more mocking in tone. Effortlessly, the hand lifted him off the ground, dangling him high in the air. Inosuke’s feet kicked at what felt like a solid wall, sending a sharp pain shooting up his legs. As though to punish him further, a second hand joined the first one, punching his head over and over. Blood dribbled down his face, through his boar mask, and Inosuke would have choked but he still couldn’t breath. His consciousness swam, the edges of the world turning dark, his attacks growing feebler with every passing second.

The clouds drifted past the moon and for a fleeting second, the silver light revealed his foe: a man with a spider’s head.

A demon who had been killed weeks ago.

Inosuke woke up in a panic, clawing at his neck. Nothing was there. The hand still felt real, visceral, and he blindly punched in front of him to keep the demon away. There was only empty air to block his attack. Reflexively, he sprang to his feet and ran to a corner of the room. As he crouched, his eyes darted around the room wildly, revealing what he instinctively knew: no one was here.

No one hostile, at least.

He was in one of the safe houses, surrounded by Wisteria plants and their sickeningly sweet smell. The demon was dead. Inosuke was alive. Reality was not at all like the dream but still he couldn’t calm down, his heart-rate picking up at every small rustle. Gingerly, he brushed his neck, the pads of his fingers resting where the demon’s claws had been. There were no scars, no damages, but he could still feel the tightening vise, the struggle to breath. In the dark, it was easy to picture the demon lurking nearby, waiting for his chance to pounce.

His boar head was nearby. Inosuke scrambled toward it and quickly pulled it down on his head. Suddenly, the world lost focus through the small slits, the sound dulling through the thick fur. Closing his eyes, he inhaled slowly through his nose, taking in the musty forest smell that comforted him in a way he couldn’t explain. It was like being on the mountain again, surrounded by the other boars. It was safe.

The demon was dead.

As his breathing evened out, his heart returning to its normal beat, Inosuke opened his eyes. Right. He was in a healing place, surrounded by annoying children who kept forcing him to rest. At least he’d recovered enough to have his own room now; if the Tanjirou or Zenitsu had seen this…

Inosuke frowned at the thought. They would have been very annoying. Kind and worried and all levels of nuisance. At least here, alone in this dark and empty room, he could pretend the primal feeling shaking him to his core wasn’t fear. He was Inosuke and he was strong and he was never afraid, even of beings that beat him an inch to death, even of beings his attacks could do little or nothing against. If he had this dream every night, it was just because he needed to get stronger.

He was fine. No, more than fine. He was great.

-x-

Inosuke grunted as he slashed the night air. Teeth bared, he slipped from one stance to the next, imagining his swords ripping through the demon’s flesh. A cut to the side, a slash at the arms, a stabbing of the chest. Twin slices as he aimed for the neck. There was nothing smooth about his movements, his actions as jagged as his blade, but that was how it was supposed to be.

He was a fighter. Fighting was never supposed to look good.

A twig cracked behind him and he spun around, thrusting his sword in front of him. Bright pink eyes blinked back at him and he pulled back his blade just in time to avoid scratching Nezuko. Now off balance, Inosuke flipped backwards to burn off the momentum. Panting heavily as he stood straight once more, Inosuke snapped his head to her and roared, “Don’t do that!”

Nezuko cocked her head, looking entirely too unperturbed for what had almost happened. Was it because she thought she was stronger than him? Or that she knew he wouldn’t go through with it? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. Inosuke growled, stepping back. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

It frustrated him, just a little, how easily she managed to slip past his radar. He grew up on the mountain. He’d hunted since he could walk. There was no way anyone should surprise him and yet somehow, Nezuko always managed to show up to his nightly trainings without him noticing even once. Even other demons had a hard time doing that—was it because she was an airhead like her brother? Just thinking about that made him angry. Tanjirou somehow did the same thing too, and maybe it was something in their blood instead. “How do you do that?”

Nezuko tilted her head the other way and smiled.

That explained it: they both just had fluff for brains. Dandelions had more presence than they did. It was stupid to expect a straight answer out of either of them. “I could have fucking cut you,” he snarled. “You could have died.” His voice cracked and he froze, surprised at the terror that hit him at that last word. He could have killed her. Easily.

Not too long ago, he had tried and now the very thought horrified him. Inosuke’s grip on his blade went slack. Nezuko could have—

No.

He wasn’t going to think about cutting her. He wasn’t going to think about how that changed. He wasn’t even going to think about why he wasn’t going to think about it. It didn’t matter, in the end. Stepping back, he slashed the air in front of him. “Don’t come closer than that,” he barked, his words lacking his usual bite.

Nezuko nodded, making a soft grunt before sitting down on the grass. She watched him with rapt attention, her legs bent to her chest and her head resting on her knees. Even in the dark, her eyes were bright. Another thing she shared with Tanjirou. Their entire family line was of bright-eyed dandelions.

“Fine,” he grunted. “Stay there.”

Her gaze felt familiar. She’d been coming here more often than he’d like to admit. Even odder, he’d let her. At some point, he’d stopped trying to chase her out and just accepted her presence. Inosuke shook himself out of his thoughts—he didn’t have to focus on anyone but that spider-bastard. All he had to concentrate was on his large form, standing as it had been when Inosuke had encountered him in the woods. Expelling his breath sharply through his nose, Inosuke held out both his blades and once again stomped the Breath of the Beast.

Eight Fang. Pig Assault. Inosuke charged straight at his opponent, roaring as he raced through the damp grass. Animals trembled at the sound of his voice. The demon would too. Shock would freeze it long enough for Inosuke to go into the Fifth Fang. Mad Cleave. He whirled around, his arms slashing in every direction, tearing bits and pieces out of the demon. This would annoy it. Hurt it. Anger it. It’d fight back, swiping back with those big arms.

Inosuke leaped back. Good. Here he could slash at the demon’s exposed belly, layering dozens of cuts before aiming for the jugular. A stab and—

And the demon’s hands would grab him as he got close, strangling his neck even as Inosuke hacked away at his arms ineffectively. Would pound at his head until nothing made sense anymore, until all he could taste was metal and all he could see was black.

The memory caught him off guard and Inosuke dropped his swords, reaching for his neck. He was fine. He was fine. It seemed so real, he could still feel the touch of the demon’s hands, the claws in his neck. Inosuke fell to his knees, trying to remember how to breathe.

A warm hand squeezed his shoulder and he looked up to find Nezuko crouched in front of him, her expression worried. Her mouth opened and she sounded, “Ahh. Ahhh.” She closed her mouth for a few seconds before opening her mouth and repeating her actions.

Breathing. Open. Close. In. Out. Inosuke mimicked her instinctually. His lungs expanded, contracted, expanded again. He was at the safe house. He was fine.

Nezuko’s hand was still on his shoulder and he mumbled, “Thanks.” When she smiled brightly in response, he pulled back and pointed at the spot where she’d just been sitting. “Back!” he grunted.

She looked at him apprehensively. When he glared in response, she shuffled back to her spot, looking over her shoulder every now and then.

Pumping himself back up, Inosuke grabbed his swords again. Okay. That first way wouldn’t work. He had other, better techniques. He could instead just start slashing immediately, over and over again using the Second and Fourth fang. Hacking away at the bastard’s chest until the it protected itself or collapsed from pain. Then a stab to the neck—

No, it wouldn’t be enough. Inosuke froze, his swords loose in his hands. The demon’s body had been thicker than anyone, than anything he’d fought before. His swords couldn’t cut through it. His swords could barely leave a mark on it.

It’d just be a futile attempt to save himself before the demon killed him. And if no one had come, he’d have died.

On that mountain, he hadn’t been the apex predator.

Maybe that held true for every mountain.

Inosuke stared at the swords dangling from his hands. They hadn’t been of any use back then. His strength, his technique, his weapons, nothing had helped him. “It’s no good.”

Nezuko appeared beside him and hey, that was another thing he was bad at. Another demon who could beat him. She peered up at him, concern colouring her features, and he chuckled darkly. “Even you’re better than me.”

She shook her head.

“You are,” he growled, stabbing his swords into the ground. For all the good they did him, they might as well rot there. “I can’t even sense you. I couldn’t even sense him.”

Nezuko reached out to grab his hand and he swatted her hand away. “Don’t!” he roared, stepping back. “I couldn’t…” His fingers trembled as he remembered the sensation of hacking away at the spider-bastard’s arm. It had been like an ant fighting a boar. “I couldn’t…”

He stared up at Nezuko, his sight blurry. “I couldn’t win.”

There. He’d said it. Admitted it. Nezuko stayed where she was, still watching him. Maybe it was because it was night. Maybe it was because Nezuko had watched him fight this dead demon for days now. Maybe it was because she couldn’t talk, couldn’t judge, couldn’t give him that painful sympathy the others would offer.

Maybe he was just tired of holding it all in. Emboldened, he forced the rest of it out, “I’m not strong enough.” There was relief with the release. The words hung in the air. “Maybe I never was.”

She didn’t move and he felt a tiny bit of pain at that. No, this was what he wanted. A non-response. A non-rebuttal. The truth wouldn’t change no matter how many pretty words Tanjirou or Zenitsu said. Now that it was out, his words came out faster, like a herd of beasts charging through the underbrush. “I can’t even do the training. I’m weak.” His hands clenched into fists, tightening with every word. “Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak—”

Without warning, Nezuko headbutted him, knocking him backwards. With a groan, he rubbed his burning forehead and glared at her. “What was that for?” he shouted. What was with her and her brother? They both liked headbutting people randomly.

“AHHH!” Nezuko glared back. She stepped into his personal space, squinting up at him.

“What?” he repeated, fighting the urge to step back, to step away. There was something unsettling about her stare.

Nezuko’s hands were on his and this time he didn’t push her away. He was too weak to do that too. Gently, she uncurled his hands, rubbing her thumb against the crescent moons left on his palms. Her touch was warm, comforting. Inosuke couldn’t remember the last time he let someone this close. As she inspected his hands, she shook her head. “Ahhh.”

“What?” he muttered, spent and exhausted.

“Ahhh aahhhh,” she growled, shaking her head. When he just stared at her blankly, she puffed her cheeks. “Aahhh!”

Inosuke frowned. “What?”

Letting go, she jumped back. Crouching low to the ground, she leaped in the air, swiping at an imaginary target. As she tumbled onto the ground, she quickly bounced into another position, and then yet another. Her claws were out and she attacked this invisible enemy ferociously. As she cycled through her attacks, Inosuke started.

This pattern, he knew it. Her actions were adjacent to his own attacks earlier, filling in the gaps and weaknesses left open from his movements. If the spider-bastard attacked him from the side, she’d be there, scratching his arms. If Inosuke was kicked, she’d catch him.

And it wasn’t just her—as loathe as he was to admit it, Tanjirou and Zentisu were there too. The next time he faced a strong demon, a master of the mountain, he wouldn’t be alone. They’d have his back.

Not that they’d need to. Inosuke could only grow stronger from here. He’d take the training and become invincible, until he was strong enough to beat Tanjirou. Strong enough to beat every spider-bastard. Strong enough to be the master of every mountain.

Nezuko looked at him expectantly and he grinned ferally as he held his swords up once more. Like hell he was going to stop here. Charging forward once more, he roared, “LET’S DO THIS!”

Somewhere in the distance, Zenitsu yelled, “LET US SLEEP, YOU BASTARD!”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #inosuke hashiriba #nezuko kamado #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #fanfic

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cryptid-bloodhound · 5 years ago

Text

The Pride of Life

Ao3

Words: 2.4k+

Characters: Bloodhound, Arthur, Bloodhound’s kid, Unnamed Security Guard

No Warnings, it’s just pure old fashioned FLUFF.

I said I was gonna write it and I did. Special shoutout to @ajays-lullaby for the term ‘ada’. That was a lifesaver.

Summary: They may often find peace in the bloodied valleys of battle but they’ve learned that the hunt is not the only place to find tranquility.

Or: Bloodhound has a kid and keeps forgetting that people don't usually show up to said kid's school in full battle gear.

---

Life in the Legends’ compound was always interesting just after the conclusion of a game. The contenders tended to their wounds, cleaned the blood from their suits and weapons, and chatted quietly amongst one another. Exhaustion weighed heavy on their shoulders as they waited for the ‘all clear’ from the higher-ups. Some liked to find the ever-present paparazzi and bask in the fleeting limelight before limping to their quarters. Others couldn’t wait to make a break for the city and revel in their victory - or drink to their sorrows.

In those tenuous moments between work and freedom laid a razor-thin tension. It lined their bodies, drawing them stiff as they dabbed their wounds. Friendly grins were always just the tightest bit strained at the very corners as they chatted with their friends. Jokes and laughs were traded as the phantom pains of bullets and blades shifted like a nightmare in the backs of their minds. No matter how close they are, it’s hard to look in the eyes of the person who put a gun to their head and pulled the trigger without thinking twice.

But the wondrous thing about Legends is that those moments of bitter pain and loss were so very fleeting. They were a rare sort, able to place those memories of death and torment to the wayside. To not take it personally. At the beginning of the day, they’re competitors and at the end they’re family. It was the sort of lifestyle that few could handle. Even rarer was the ability to be a Legend and have a life outside of the games. Between the fame and fear garnered for their feats that seemed to separate them from the rest of society and the strain of competing at all, it was nearly impossible. The veterans of the game, Legends who had truly been through the wringer, have learned to cope with those brief, insidious emotions and the struggle with the duality of their lives with stunning expertise. It would take far more than a bad game to truly bring them down.

Sitting by their self was a Legend who seemed just outside of the norm. As they meticulously wiped blood from their hunting knife and hatchet, they felt a sense of serenity only ever present after a game. The threat of death and pain at the hands of their friends never really bothered them. If they were to fall by another’s hands then that is simply the way it was meant to be. If they had to fell a friend in combat, then so be it. Bloodhound found peace in the carnage that combat brought with it. If one listened close enough, they could even hear the faint sound of a soft battle hymn hummed under their breath. Perched just to their left was their faithful companion, Arthur. The large raven busied himself with cleaning the game’s grime from his feathers and preening.

They took this brief reprieve as an opportunity to send a silent prayer up to the Gods. All they could hope for was that the day’s kills pleased the Allfather. Then, when their worship came to a close and their blades no longer ran a deep crimson, they rose from their seat. A few heads turned at the unexpected motion before that lull in conversation picked back up. It was not uncommon for the enigmatic hunter to disappear post-battle for hours or even days at a time. Still, as they neared the exit they gave a parting farewell. They could grant their brethren that much.

“Fara vel, I will return shortly.”

After a chorus of well wishes and waves, they departed the facility. Once upon a time, they would have made their way to where the wilderness called their name. Since they had a child, however, they found their priorities shifted. Instead of heading for the forest, they made their way deeper into the city to their kid’s school. Never would they have guessed something could rival their sense of wanderlust let alone beat it. But these moments with their young one proved them happily wrong.

As they approached the school, the astonished looks and whispers of other parents didn’t go unnoticed. It was something they’ve learned to live with. At first, before they truly grasped the scope of their fame thanks to the games, they were understandably shocked to see people wearing eerie replicas of their mask and nervous fans approach them for autographs. It was uncomfortable at first but as the years rolled on and victories mounted, they’ve adapted just as they always do.

So, the shocked stares and high whispers didn’t faze them. Though, perhaps it should have. If they had paid attention to what was being said and just where it was that people were looking, they would have picked up on the problem. Or, if they had made a mention to the other Legends where they were going, someone could have spoken up to stop them. But no, that was not how it was meant to be.

The problem for Bloodhound is simple. Their way of life - constant hunting and battle - is so utterly ingrained in them that traversing a city armed and armored was normal in their eyes. Just as one puts on a coat to leave the house, they don a mask and combat gear. It’s as natural as breathing to them. Approaching a grade school fresh from a blood bath just wasn’t something that rang alarms in their head. That’s why when they approached the doors and were stopped by a visibly uneasy security guard they just tilted their head in confusion.

“Uh, I’m- I’m gonna have to ask you to uh, to leave your weapons in your vehicle. They aren’t permitted on school grounds.”

It all suddenly made sense to the hunter. The horrified whispers, the beads of sweat dotting the guard and rolling down his face… They could hardly fault the others for being wary. After all, it is just the nature of prey to grow anxious in the presence of a predator - especially when that predator is baring its teeth and claws. This was not their prey, however, and so they gave a slight apologetic bow of the head.

“Ahh, my apologies. I was veiðr and forgot. One moment.”

Disarming was quick and easy since they carried scarce more than their varying blades when outside of the arena or away from a hunt. Still, there was a degree of amusement to be found in seeing the wide-eyed looks of the few parents approaching the school as they removed one large blade after another from their sheaths. They knew it wasn’t simply the weapons but the one who wielded them that upset the populace. At this point, Bloodhound would have thought they’d be used to it. After all, they could openly admit that this was far from the first time they forgot to leave their weapons behind.

As they neared the doors once more, a raven’s call caught their attention. Reflexively they lifted their arm for Arthur to perch upon it. Once more the guard blocked their way. Bloodhound frowned ever so slightly at the motion. They had relinquished their weaponry, was that not enough? This time, the man rubbed the back of his neck and looked for the world as if he wished he was anywhere but here.

“Your bird-’

“Artur comes with me.”

There was a firm note of finality in their voice. It was clear they would entertain no negotiations on this front. Arthur was their oldest and truest friend. Where they went, the raven went. That authoritative tone sent a jolt through the guard. Eyes widened and stance stiffened, he seemed at a loss for a moment. Then, he gave an unsteady grin and a nod that was just a bit too enthusiastic to be natural.

“Of course! That’s totally what I was gonna say. Nice ta have you back!”

The tightness behind his clenched grin and the minute tremor in his hands was all the evidence needed to know that was decidedly not what he was going to say. However, he seemed to have weighed his options and found that complying was the best way to go. Not wanting to cause the poor guard any more undue stress, Bloth gave another polite nod and made their way inside. As they passed the threshold, they could just make out the faint crackle of the guard’s radio as he spoke into it.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do? …...No, YOU tell them their bird isn’t allowed inside! ..….I am not telling Bloodhound that. I do not get paid enough for that! …...I like my life more than this job, dickhead. …...Hnng, fiiine but that’s it!”

They shook their head slightly in amusement. A faint, breathy laugh left their lips at the - in their opinion - entirely unnecessary commotion. This was rather routine for them by now. They took an empty spot in the open corridor and casually folded their arms as they waited for the children to be released. After losing his perch on Bloth’s arm, Arthur made the short journey to sit on their shoulder. Once more they ignored the blatant stares of the others around them.

It wasn’t but a moment after settling in their spot, stance wide and exuding that quiet pride they’re known for, that the guard made his return. This time, he tried to be as unassuming as possible as he stood back and to the right of the Legend. The forced casual display didn’t fool the hunter but they made no motion to acknowledge the man. He was simply doing his job and keeping an eye on the obvious threat. Bloodhound could certainly respect that. But, to their surprise, the guard coughed a little awkwardly and tapped their shoulder. They half-turned to give the still perturbed guard their attention.

“Uh, you...you got a little..somethin’ right there.”

He made a faint little gesture toward Bloth’s shoulder and, after shifting a bit, Bloodhound could see the ruddy stain he spoke of. It was initially hidden from their gaze due to the shoulder guard blocking it from their perspective. They hummed as they ran a finger over it and scraped the flaking substance off.

“I thought I had gotten all of the bloth off. You have my gratitude.“

At the confirmation of the substance, the guard looked just a tad paler and nodded a bit too quickly.

“Yep! No problem, any time!”

His voice was pitched an octave higher, belaying just how daunting this entire scenario is for him. After that, there was a lapse in conversation. It lulled into an uncomfortable sort of quiet - at least on the guard’s end. Bloodhound just went back to their casual stance, seeming entirely at ease despite the awkward tension filling the air. Arthur busied himself with staring almost menacingly at the guard from his perch.

It wasn’t much longer until the pitter-patter of hurried little feet caught their attention. Moments later, a bustle of kids rounded the corner and elated cries filled the air as they happily made their way to their loved ones. All it took was a cursory sweep to spot their own little one. With a head of wild curls and bright eyes, they came running to Bloth with wide open arms and a large, gap-toothed grin.

“Ada!”

A consuming, aching warmth spread from their heart throughout their body at the unabashed affection in their child’s voice. This was a brand of love they never fathomed they would have but they thank the Gods each day for it. Without hesitation, they dropped down low and opened their arms invitingly. Just before their child jumped into their waiting grasp, Arthur flew up and circled around the pair. It was an easy affair to lift the young one up and settle them on a hip as they hugged their parent. After planting a kiss on the cheek of Bloodhound’s mask, the smiling kid leaned back to look into the goggles.

“Hi! Did you win your game? Did you?”

The child had an accent much like Bloth’s but not quite to the same degree. It was there, in the curl of the syllables and pitch of the words. There was no denying where they picked up the rather unique manner of speech from. It didn’t matter how many games Bloodhound was in, their child always eagerly waited to hear about it. They gave another soft chuckle and a little nod.

“Indeed. The Allfather graced my and my brethren’s spirits.”

That earned them an excited clap and wiggle. They had to tighten their grip ever so slightly to keep their child from squirming right out of their grasp. A call from Arthur caught both of their attentions. The circling raven was getting impatient and needy. He was quite the little attention hog. Shifting their grip, Bloth held out their arm once more for the bird to land. Once he did, their kid immediately cooed and started petting the bird. If they didn’t know any better, they’d say Arthur was nuzzling into the affectionate strokes.

“Hello, Artur! Did you help ada in the games?”

As if he understood them, the bird squawked and ruffled up his feathers proudly. After taking just another selfish moment to watch their two loves, Bloodhound spoke up.

“Do you wish to visit the others?”

It was a silly question as their child adored the other Legends - and the Legends adored them right back. After more excited wiggling and affirmations, Bloth lowered the kid back to the ground and took their backpack from them. It was almost comically large on the young one and hilariously out of place against the pristine white and gold armor of the hunter. Still, they slung it over their shoulder opposite to their quiver and gently gripped their kid’s hand. Then, they made their way out of the school, completely unflustered by the gawking people around them. The guard from before still looked rather anxious but the smile on his face was much warmer and more genuine than before. They gave a polite nod as they left. On the way to the vehicle, their child rattled off one story after another with a little skip in their step. Contentment filled their chest in this domestic moment. They may often find peace in the bloodied valleys of battle but they’ve learned that the hunt is not the only place to find tranquility. Once more, they sent a silent prayer to the Gods, thanking them for their blessed fortune.

#Apex Legends #Bloodhound (Apex)#Blothhundr #Bloodhound's kid #My Writing #2k+#Bloth Jr?#idk what to tag them lmfao #I FINALLY GOT AROUND TO WRITING IT #its my first fic for this fandom #(and the first thing I've written in like 1 - 2 yrs shhh)

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justallamaimaginingthings · 6 years ago

Text

Our Time [Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader]

Request: "Hi hi hi could u pretty please write something for jaime x starkreader where after the war the reader becomes queen in the north and it's her coronation and jaime just admires her beauty (she's his wife at this point which also makes him king in the north) and afterwards he just kisses her and picks her up and tells her that he loves her and it's just soooooo fluffy ahh I love jaime and I hate what they did to him in season 8.. btw I love your writing so much!!!! <3" by anonymous

A/n: Thank you so much dear anon 💘 I had so much writing this and I realized I’m totally Jaime trash at this point. Hope you like it and don’t hesitate to leave a comment telling me what you think! Btw the quote in bold is by one of my fave writers/philosophers, Jean-Paul Sartre.

Words: 1400 || GoT Masterlist

The only time a person can be brave is when they are afraid.

The words your father had spoken almost ten years ago replayed in your head as you tried to calm your nerves by taking slow deep breaths. Those days when you were nothing but a young girl who dreamed of a better world seemed like a lifetime ago. Since then everything had changed but most of all, you had changed.

The struggle and hardships you had endured after your father's death had shaped you into a completely different person. Having suffered beatings, torture and the death of your loved ones, the only thing that had kept you standing was those words. Now, every hint of hesitation had faded away, as you carried yourself with a confidence and strength fit for a queen.

Taking another deep breath, you straightened your gown one last time before making your way towards Winterfell's council room. Upon crossing the familiar corridors, thoughts of your father and brother Robb filled your mind. An independent North with a Stark to lead. That was what they were fighting for, what they would have wanted and at that moment you swore you would make them proud.

The second Jaime saw you entering the large hall, his breath got caught in his throat as he found himself to be in awe with you once again. You were just as beautiful as you had been on your wedding day, he thought smiling at the memory. This time, however, your dress was much darker as the metallic stripes all over your chest resembled an armor.

Jaime was mesmerized by the look of sheer determination that shone in your eyes, which only added to your confident stance making your presence capturing. More than beautiful, you looked strong. Passing right in front of the huge Stark banner that was hanging in the wall, the wolf inside you howled with pride as you locked eyes with Jaime, who gave you an approving look. He knew that even though you didn’t want this, the North believed you and he was certain you would carry on the Stark legacy, being a capable and fair ruler.

The moment you sat down every person in the hall kneeled in front of you as Ser Davos slowly placed the silver crown in your head in an almost ceremonial way. Nodding at the man, he resumed to his previous place, next to the throne as every advisor should be. For an instant no sound could be heard in the room until you rose up, eyes stuck on Jaime.

"The War is over" you voice echoed through the halls "We fought both men and monsters and survived. But this is not the end. I can’t promise you safety, for winter is coming. What I can promise you is this: from this day until my last I will fight for you. There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours. From the ashes we will build a brighter future, just like my brother promised you" At that moment, Jaime realized as the passion in your voice sent shivers down his spine, you were truly a she wolf. There was something so fierce and powerful about you that could make even the strongest warrior bend down to your will. That was what you were meant to be, and Jaime couldn’t be more proud that he had the chance to be by your side in your hour of glory, seeing you finally getting what you always deserved, happiness and acceptance.

"Queen in the North" It started as a mere whisper, but in no time the whole room was chanting and howling in triumph. Jaime raised his sword just like the heads of all the remaining Northern houses had and joined the men.

"Ser Jaime, step forward" you demanded as soon as the cheers began quieting down. Taking a deep breath he followed your request making his way to right in front of you and bowing "As my husband you have swore to stand by me, just as I swore to stand by you. Today I need you to act on those vows. Will you rule by my side? Will you swear to protect the North with your life?" The intensity in the look the two of you exchanged was such to burn through the Wall and tear castles to the ground. In that moment you realized just how strongly Jaime believed in you, causing your heart to threaten to beat out of your chest.

"I swear. From this day until the end of my days" Jaime declared after what had seemed like a century while it was, in fact, just a second

"Arise Ser Jaime, rightful King in the North" you announced. There was a much deeper meaning behind those words and you both knew that. This wasn't about a throne or a kingdom, this was about loyalty and trust. With Jaime on your side, you were certain the future was going to be brighter than ever before.

The feast carried on in an absolute frenzy with countless toasts to the King and Queen in the North and by the end of it, most northerners had either fallen asleep or were positively drunk. Hearing Winterfell's corridors echo with laughter once more caused a warm feeling to fill your heart, reassuring you the worst had passed. Deciding it was late enough, you and Jaime headed back to your chambers. While you were walking, you couldn't help observing him, as the light from the torches made his hair shine like pure gold and highlighted his features.

The second the door closed behind the two of you, Jaime pulled you in for a breathtakingly passionate kiss. His hand tenderly traced your cheekbone before trailing down to the back your neck in order to hold you close. Returning the kiss in an equally fervent manner, you slightly bit his lower lip causing him to smile into the kiss.

"I love you" Jaime whispered after the kiss was broken, the seriousness of his voice taking you by surprise "And I want you to know that even though I didn't know your father well, I'm utterly certain he'd be proud of you. I know I am"

"That's all I need. I love you, Jaime" you replied, marveling at the bright smile that formed on his lips. Hearing him say those words meant more to you than words could ever express, making you forget all your worries. The sweet moment was interrupted abruptly, as Jaime picked you up, bridal style and carried you to the bed "What are you doing?" you asked him chuckling while your hands rested on his chest.

"Taking care of my Queen" he replied upon gently letting you down on the bed and helping you remove the tight skirt of your dress, leaving you in your undershirts. Taking off his armor, Jaime lied down on the bed, arms tightly wrapping around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. Feeling a trail of soft kisses on your shoulder blade, you smiled snuggling closer to him. You closed you eyes, letting the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

"Jaime…" you tried wanting to know if he was still awake

"What?" he replied hoarsely, already half asleep

"No matter how much I love the North, you'll always be my home" you admitted making his grip on your waist tightened. Jaime didn't know what he had done to be worthy of such happiness, but for the first time in his life he knew there was no place he'd rather be than right there. You had made him believe in himself again, saving him from completely giving up and he couldn't be more grateful. So, he silently promised to himself he would try his best to support you in the way a King should support his Queen.

Jaime Lannister Taglist: @cyaa-niide

#jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister #jaime x reader #jaime imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones spoilers #got imagine #got x reader #got season 8 #got

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peacekeeper-xiv · 5 years ago

Text

The Second Shard

Ikara had spent the night arguing, and then making up with Beta, but the next morning she was determined to contact as many people as she could think of that Lloire might want to fight. First at the top of the list was Helene. She just hoped the linkpearl frequency was still the same. Testing it out a bit she called over the pearl, "Helene, its Ikara... you there?"

There was silence on her hand for a few beats before the line came through crystal clear. In the distance came the heavy rumble of a giant waterfall along with the usual sound of her armor shifting against itself. "Ikara! Long time no see, yeah?"

Ikara breathed a sigh of relief that the linkpearl connected and was beaming on the other end, "Hey! I'm glad you didn't change linkpearls. It’s been too long! How are you?"

Steels slid into the sheath at her side and she let out a long exhale. "Ahh, ya know. Keepin' busy! Wouldn't change lines unless I lost it, yeah? Gotta keep up with people." She could hear Helene dusting off her gloves together. "Oh! Got married. That uh, yeah sorry I didn't invite ya. Was kinda sudden. But hey! You sound like you are doing well, yeah?"

Ikara blinked at the news and squealed happily on the other end of the line, "Oh my goodness!! I am so happy for you! I mean... you should have invited me... but Uh.. I have kind of been out in the burn for moons anyways, so it’s not like you could have reached me. Man... I really want to catch up, but you know how things go. I've got some good news and bad news, and I'm guessing you want the bad first."

Chance had been looking over the ledgers with the quartermaster and growling over some of the expenses when he looked over his shoulder as Helene went from a smile to her more serious expression. Work almost never made her wear that look, so he could safely bet it was something more personal. A heavy sigh left the wolf but he'd let her finish her call before pressing for details. Besides, there was still plenty he needed to work out on the books.

Helene Ashton had pressed her hand against her ear as if it would help make the call as crystal clear as possible. "Figured ya had some reason aside from catching up. Hit me with it. You need help? You okay?" Her footing shifted into a balanced stance out of habit.

Ikara laughed a little, "One of these days I am going to call just to shoot the shit... but really I always feel bad doing that. With the way folks I know are, they are likely to be in the middle of a battlefield." She sighed a little and considered, "Well, on the plus side I have good and bad news. Good news is me, I'm actually excellent, but we'll get to that. I don't even really know how to easily explain the bad. Its magey bullshit that Niisan... I mean Lloire, Lion... well shit... no wonder... too many names, Anyways, Lloire did some dumbass magic crap to himself. He is... okay, ish. It’s like his aether is a big old mirror and he put his fist through it, and now he has a bunch of different personalities and is intent on fighting all his friends to prove to himself they can protect themselves or some bullshit. So, he will likely try to find you and pick a fight with you with one of his... now many facets. I already fought one of them. They are entirely made up of his aether, but it didn't seem to physically hurt his real body when I kicked his aether butt."

Chance frowned. If her words weren't enough to put him on edge, her sudden statuesque nature certainly was. A low growl left his throat, rumbling enough to put the quartermaster on edge.

Helene Ashton had fallen silent and let her statuesque form scream for her. A deep breath was pulled, and she looked down to the ground. “Okay…ish?” Her lips pressed together, tensing her muscles through her neck. “Aye, aye I see. You’re okay though, yeah? He didn’t hurt ya too bad, did he? I’ll sock him one extra If he did. He would want me to.”

Ikara waited on the other end for Helene to say -something-, and when she finally did Ikara breathed a little easier. Helene was so used to weird shit from the Order, she just needed the important stuff to know how to win. "He is okay, I think. Its, like he only has a certain amount of control over it. I mean, looking at his aether is disturbing, and I offered to try to fix it, but I mean, I'm not sure I could have. I'm fine, promise! I won! I mean, I almost didn't, Niisan is a pain in the ass when it comes to his magical talents and now I have to figure out what the hell that last spell he used was, but no, I'm fine. I realized at the end of the fight that his .. facet is made of Aether.. and well, that is my specialty... manipulating aether.. so I just kinda... disrupted the whole facet. I may have had my eyebrows singed off though, but thats okay... they'll grow back."

Chance spun around at her last words looking furious. He wasn't fool enough to react without the full story, but this had begun to sound domestic and if Lloire had put his hands on Velestine, there was going to be blood.

Helene Ashton heard him shift behind her and she cast her bright emerald hues over her shoulder to him. It wasn't going to help the fire, she was 'Shield' more than 'Hells' in that moment. if protective had a facial expression, she was the poster child of it. Helene Ashton then muttered a bunch of incoherent colorful commentary low enough that only a word or two could be made out. Stubborn and Fool, respectively and clearly not meant for her Wolf.

The quartermaster had tried to regain Chance's attention, but with the look Helene wore, there was little chance of that. He simply growled a dismissal and the man gave a hurried salute before beating a hasty exit.

Helene Ashton noted the poor quartermaster and couldn't help her smirk. She continued the conversation, though. "Glad you are okay. Eyebrows or not, I’m bettin' you're still cute so don't worry about it, yeah? Said you didn't hurt him, right? Nothin' you did had any affect?"

The merc was now both angry and confused. He paced slowly back and forth, waiting for an explanation.

Ikara huffed a laugh, "Like I said, they'll grow back." Thinking on how to explain it she finally settled on an answer, "Well, the real Lloire, like his physical body collapsed. This ... second Lloire, appeared. It was entirely made of aether, but a physical thing. Like, if I cast spells at it, it bled, I burned its arm off. But the damage I did to the facet didn't appear on the real Lloire. I'm not a hundred percent sure what killing it would do to his main aether to be honest, but he claims that it should actual mend what’s wrong. Though, again, I don't know. I basically disrupted it and reshaped it into a staff instead so he could always still have access to that part of himself, without taking the risk of breaking it. I don't know how it would go in a physical fight to be honest. I know you -can- win, and you -can- hurt it, but these facets are how he sees those parts of himself, so they are a hard fight."

Helene Ashton cast her features up to the heavens and let out a hard exhale. "Aye, well, I can't shape aether or even cast any of it so I am gonna have to do it the old fashioned way an' hope. Thanks for the heads up, Ikara. You call Vele--no, wait, it's Lion. He wouldn't give ya that info. I'll call his girlfriend and give her a heads up, yeah?"

Chance was even more confused now, but his hackles went down ever so slightly. Her words about doing it the old fashioned way seemed to annoy him more though.

Ikara perked up a bit, "Oh! I did headbutt it in the face and crack his nose, so physical hits work. I um.. he mentioned this new girlfriend of his. I told him he didn't need to fight folks, he needed a therapist, he said he tried that and ended up dating her and that he'd introduce me later, but yea if you can get a hold of her all the better, cause I don't know how."

Helene Ashton then laughed. "Oh, aye, he is dating his therapist alright. Wait 'till ya meet this one, Ikara. He has tried so hard to run from her. Anyroad, once this is done, we should have dinner at Lion's place an' you can meet her and my Husband, yeah? He owes us after this."

Her 'Husband' huffed as the conversation seemed to derail and stopped pacing. Whatever the news was, obviously Helene didn't see it as terribly threatening.

Ikara laughed and had a big grin that could be heard in her tone, "That sounds like a really good plan. We'll make him cook for all of us as contrition for being a dummy and I can meet people. Just, I wanted to warn you cause I don't think he will go with a surprise attack, but I didn't want you to be unprepared. Also, tell your new Husband that I am asking very nicely for him to please not kill my big brother for being a dumbass. I would really appreciate it. I imagine anyone that you marry would be perfectly willing to put him in the ground for hurting you, so yea.. speaking of... so that good news.. something good to leave off on anyways, Beta proposed annnnd after I stared at him like he had grown a second head, I said yes. Sooo eventually I'll get to invite you to -my- wedding. Not anytime soon though. We aren't in a hurry."

Helene Ashton still was holding her balanced stance and tightened frame but given her armor, that wasn't showcased as easily. Her tone was still 'forced' in a way he may pick up on. Helene Ashton then turned some to look at Chance. Now he could see that it was on purpose. "Ayyy!!! 'Bout time!! Congrats girly, I will be there front row and center for your big day. We will talk more on that and get back to easy conversations soon, yeah? I should talk to Wolf before he pounces on me here. He's givin' me the look of death since this is one sided convo, yeah? Thanks for the warning, though. I'll update ya if he shows."

Chance was unsure who she was speaking with and took the tone at face value at first. He rose a brow as she continued though and shook his head at her 'look of death comment' but held his tongue since it was clear the conversation was wrapping up now.

Ikara giggled across the line, "Oh yea, I didn't realize he was there, oops! I should have. Yea we will catch up soon. Kick my brother's ass yea, but don't go killing him or he can't cook us all dinner. Go and I'll talk to you soon."

Helene Ashton gave a curt nod. "Aye, aye. Miss ya, kid. See you soon."

"Miss you too. See you."

With that, she took her hand down from the pearl and twitched her nose enough to shift her wrinkles about on her cheeks. “Oi..”

The merc crossed his arms, his expression not changing one ilm. "So... who needs to die, and who are we congratulating on something?"

Helene Ashton cleared her throat. “Ikara is Lloire’s little sister in the fact he ‘adopted’ her into his care. She’s the one that called. She’s marrying his ‘son’ Beta. So, there’s the good news, yeah?” She then shifted her footing to dig her heel in as if waiting for the heavy blow. “Lloire’s gone and gotten his aether all shattered or something into different manifestations of his personalities and is off fighting his friends to prove a point. Ikara fought him, burned off his arm and headbutt him and it hurt the ‘form’ of him, but not….his real form. It’s confusin’, yeah? Anyway he ended up burning off her eyebrows in the fight but otherwise, she’s fine. Not shockin’ to me as she is the strongest aether user I ever heard of. But, I’m not. I don’t even have any and he is likely headin’ this way at some point and likely lookin’ to take me on.”

Lloire Peace, sort of, stepped into the doorway and lifted his visor. "Not you, actually, Shield sister." The spear was drawn from his back and pointed at Chance. "Him. He's your other half... I would know that he can defend you as easily as you can defend him." Chance took a step to the side, not even having had an opportunity to ask about the insanity Helene had just explained. "Are you crazy?" The wolf asked angrily. "Who the hell are you to think we owe you some test of our might?" Lloire lowered the spear. "I am Warrenson. A son of Peace. Accept my challenge, or do not... I will accept a forfeit."

Helene Ashton had moved on instinct at hearing Lloire. Given the context of the call from Ikara, her immediate response was to pivot and put herself between her brother-in-arms and her husband. “Oi!” Auburn locks were tied back but had grown long enough now that they collected to the opposite shoulder with the fluidity of her motions. “Lion. Let’s just talk this out, yeah? What’s got you doin’ this anyway?”

Lloire Peace shook his head slightly. "Not Lion... He'll be here for you later. Warrenson." He frowned as he looked between them. "I was listening... did the girl not explain it properly?" The spear rose again at a movement from Chance and his brow rose. "I hope you are not without honor mercenary... Your wife has asked a question... Do not engage me before I have answered her." Chance sneered but stopped moving. "The hell, Hels... I say I just kick his ass and we can ask him what the hell his issue is after this part's been beaten and broken..."

Helene Ashton huffed and looked over her shoulder to Chance but not enough to take Lloire out of her peripherals. “Don’t kill Lloire. Not sure what these… aether things do to him if they die but don’t attack him directly.” She then set her sharp gaze on ‘Warrenson.’ “Where is he?”

Warrenson grinned at her words and motioned behind him, outside. "The vessel is quite fine. He's resting. He'd thought to come explain it all to you himself, but when I heard you speaking with the girl... well, no sense explaining what's already been said, is there?" He gave her a simple nod. "You can check on him if that's your desire." His spear arm stiffened. "But I would have an answer to my challenge first." Chance growled and moved to Helene's side, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Idiot's gone and gotten broken as fuck in the head... but I doubt that makes him less dangerous... Your call, wife... He's your brother... Shall I oblige the ass, and kick it?"

Helene Ashton had always been the type not to swing too far off into the emotional spectrum of life. When it came to those she cared for, she would shift into her ‘Shield’ persona that she earned the name for. But in that moment, the way he spoke about Lloire and challenged Chance, questioning his ability? Hells hath no fury. “The ‘vessel’?” Chance coming to her side and setting a hand to her pauldron was enough to let the fire out of her veins. Her glare upon the apparition was heated and steady, her palm resting tightly to the pommel of the steel at her side, but she flicked her gaze away to lock it to her Wolf’s own hues. “Fuck him up, yeah?” And oh, how she grinned.

Warrenson smiled at the answer he'd been given. He turned without another word and stepped outside. Chance put down pressure on the pauldron beneath his fingers and nodded as he moved around her. "I love it when you talk sexy like that." His own spear was shook at his side as he moved to follow the false-Lloire and swapped it between hands as though to loosen up his grip. When he was out in the sunlight there was a clear divide between the two. Chance, the golden wolf. Lloire, the silver Lion. "Any rules to this duel of ours, False Lloire?" The other glared at Chance. "You will address me as Warrenson, or Son of Peace. Do not trifle with me, mercenary..." The merc simply grinned. "Shouldn't let me get under your skin so easily False Lloire..."

Helene Ashton winked as he moved around her, but she wasn’t far behind. Stepping out with them, she noted their positions, armor, weapons, the field on with they would play, everything. Both arms crossed upon her chest as she then took the moment to look for her brother.

Warrenson lay unconscious on the ground behind 'Warrenson' near the water. From where Helene stood, he seemed hale and whole, though completely unmoving aside from the steady rise and fall of his chest. Warrenson took a moment to adjust his gauntlets and shook his head. "Outside of the fact that this battle is between you and I, no. No other conditions or handicaps." Chance rolled his shoulders, letting his neck crack several times before nodding. "Alright... Let's get on with this then. I win how?" Warrenson pulled down the visor on his helm and smirked. "Despite the requests of the ladies... You only win if I am completely defeated. Slay me and win... fail to do so and I win... proving you don't have what it takes..."

Helene Ashton tucked her tongue into the curve of her cheek as she listened to the rule set. But again, that grin showed on her features and made her freckles rise. “Never said he couldn’t put you in your place. I said he can’t touch my brother.” She pointed to Lloire by the water. “Far as I’m concerned, he can hand you your teeth one by one, yeah? But if my brother starts feelin’ the pain, I’m gonna take issue.”

Warrenson scoffed. "The vessel will remain whole. Do not worry." The spear was rose aloft and he spun it once before settling into a stance. "Ready yourself mercenary!" With that, the battle began in earnest. Warrenson struck first. He leapt into the air and came down, getting the jump on Chance with speed that the mercenary had not expected from a mage. It was a glancing blow, but it stung all the same. Especially that Lloire had drawn first blood. "Remind me again Hels, what all is this asshole trained in?"

Helene Ashton shifted her footing as Chance took the hit first, but she kept her features neutral for the moment. “…Everything.” Arms tightened upon her chest as she adjusted them to get comfortable. “He spent a lot of time with every weapon he could get his hands on.”

Warrenson took a step back, letting the weapon in his hand twist around to his side again, 'allowing' Chance a moment to recuperate from the attack. The mercenary frowned at his wife's answer. "Well that's just -great-... Fuckin' Gillionaires... too much damn time on their hands, not enough real work to do." Chance shifted his left shoulder again, adjusting his grip on his own spear. "Well, there's something to be said about specializing." He charged Lloire, forcing the Hyur to lift his lance defensively. The mercenary feinted though, slamming his own spear into the dirt and using it to launch dirt and sand up and into the other's eyes. Warrenson stumbled back wiping at his eyes angrily as Chance rushed forward with the followup attack.

Helene Ashton winced at Chance’s response to the information but smirked as Warrenson was faked out. Memories. “He an’ I have that whole ‘hero’ complex in common, yeah? I know my way ‘round a few weapons so I can be ready. Same for him.” Holding conversation as if Warrenson was nothing more than a trainee being tested, she kept it casual now and glanced around the area, but Wolf would know her best. Her footing gave away everything.

The wolf was many things... but a hero, was never among them. Prideful, conceitful, no. He was practical. His enemy was blinded. His enemy was agitated. Pride was a weakness to exploit. His spear found its mark. Between scales, center mass, he buried it so far into the other Hyur that even Helen could see the other end from her position. Warrenson gasped out as the weapon rammed through him, blood splattering Chance in the face as they were now but a breath apart. The merc remained stoic and calm. "Something wrong? Looks like you might've broken a few... vessels there..."

Helene Ashton unfolded her arms the minute she watched the spear tip explode out the back of Warrenson. Pride may have been his weakness, but the sin shown clear as day all over her form for the man who claimed her. A few steps carried her down the makeshift ramp as she looked from her Wolf, to her Brother laying by the water. Little care was given to their enemy in that moment as she was focused on the rise and fall of Lloire’s chest; looking for blood.

Lloire Peace, even now seemed the perfect picture of health. A unique look for him all things considered. Chance watched the enemy carefully as he pulled in ragged breaths and Helene passed. When she reached Lloire his eyes fell to her. "He alright?" He asked with concern tinting his voice.

"I... told... <coughs blood> you.... he was... fine." Chance's pupils immediately dilated as he turned his attention to the enemy whose free hand now gripped tightly to the others spear. Warrenson leaned back for a fraction of a heartbeat before he slammed his head forward, helm crashing into Chance's unprotected face, blood splattering all around it from the impact. Chance fell back, losing his grip on the spear as he stumbled back from the blow, holding his face. "You thought this..." He motioned to the spear jutting through him now, "...would kill me? You know NOTHING about me!"

Helene Ashton had lowered down into a crouch to check on Lloire’s pulse, his breathing, and set a hand over his chest where the spear had hit its mark. All clear. She let out a slow breath before touching his cheek briefly. That was cut short as she heard the collide behind her and quickly rose to look back on the fight. That glare leveled on Warrenson as Chance stumbled back and she took a few steps closer, keeping her hand off her sword so as not to provoke intent.

Warrenson ripped Chance's spear from his gut, now holding both his own and Chance's crimson stained weapon. He was quickly bleeding out now, but seemed in no hurry to fetch a healer nor to slow down. Instead, Chance's weapon was lifted over his head and directed at the merc. "You should have ended it... now your wife has to watch you die... Even if I fall... slaying you will prove the vessel's fears true... I will lay down my life to ensure that Peace survives!"

Helene Ashton dug her feet to the ground and launched herself forward with speed. Despite the armor, despite the weight of her shield, she moved as if neither had been upon her in that moment. Sunlight glinted off the broad surface as she ducked down, leapt, and planted her feet suddenly, swinging her arm wide with enough force behind it to hopefully send Warrenson careening into the pillar close by.

Warrenson hadn't expected the rules to be ignored. He went flying, staggering towards the pillar and crashing into it. Stunned, he collapsed to the ground, shaking his head. "Foul!" He cried and he and Chance forced themselves to their feet. "That was outside the rules! This was between he and I!"

Helene Ashton slowly pulled steel from its home at her hip, letting the song ring out for his ears. Emerald hues were locked dead to his features as she righted herself and rolled the shoulder of the arm that held tight to that shield. Her tone had dipped into a serious edge, yet she smirked. “Like you said…” The sword swung this way and that as she warmed up her hold. “…you know nothing about me, yeah? Lloire wouldn’t kill the man I loved nor would I allow him, to kill Lloire.” Her steps brought her between Chance and Warrenson once more. “Hero.” She shrugged.

Warrenson staggered to his feet. "Very well hero... when the vessel remains broken... we will be sure that he knows it was your interfe--" Before the last word could leave his lips his head jutted backwards with the impact of something slamming into his face. The body that had been Warrenson slid down the stone column until it then fell over to the side, an expertly thrown knife jutting from one of his eyes.

Helene Ashton widened her gaze as the man fell over with a new addition for his trouble. A step or two brought her closer but she didn’t let it keep her attention. Instead, she looked back to Chance.

The merc was wiping blood from his nose with one hand, the other still pointed in the direct of his throw. "Live through that, asshole..." Chance staggered a moment in place before the arm dropped to his side and he frowned. "Thanks, Hels..." He remarked, gratefully. Before she could respond though, the being that had called itself Warrenson began to break apart into the base blocks of aether it had been formed of. They lingered in the air for several heartbeats before then moving back to Lloire and coalescing around him. There was a soft glow there for several moments but soon it faded and Lloire seemed to become restless in his slumber.

Helene Ashton softened at the fact he was standing upright. “Never need to thank me. Wasn’t sure you’d have enough time to throw it.” She then turned back to watch the figure break apart. “We didn’t shake on the rules anyway. Lloire knows our shake.” Her own defenses were up as she continued to watch her brother until he moved. Helene exhaled. “Good. He’s comin’ to.” The sword and shield were tucked away as she approached Chance to check on him. “How’s the nose?”

Chance reached up, growled beforehand, and pushed it back into place, causing a bit more blood to rush. "I'll live." He commented as he tore at a sleeve and used it to stanch the bleeding. "Fucker's pretty tough to take down, even broken as shit like this... I see why you two get 'long..." He moved to her side as Lloire began to move more. "Should we get him inside?"

Helene Ashton scoffed. “Should’ve seen him with an axe, yeah? Downright frightening.” Once she was sure he was alright, she turned and looked to Lloire once more. “Aye. He is likely feelin’ like a truck hit him by now. Also, remind me never to take you on and mean it.” Once more, pride shown in her features as she smiled to him before moving over to where Lloire lay. “Oi, you ‘wake?”

Lloire Peace seemed as though he were working on regaining consciousness but wasn't there quite yet. Chance followed her and shrugged. "I'd hope our vows prevented that all the same..." He wasn't quite clear on the aether and magic aspects of all that had occurred. Warrenson had felt plenty real to him afterall. "Let's get him inside then. He moved to help her carry the Hyur inside. "Maybe he'll be able to tell us something helpful... I don't recommend we just let him go out and try to kill people."

Helene Ashton lowered down and scooped Lloire up under one arm, helping get him up to move. “I didn’t think he’d go as far as trying to outright kill you, yeah?” Concern etched at the corners of her features as she looked to Lloire and then Chance. “I can’t let him leave if he is heading out to kill his friends, yeah?”

Chance Ashton helped Helene with the weight of the Hyur and nodded. "Though, I'm gonna guess with all his magic and fuck all crazy, talkin' him outta it or keeping him pinned down are gonna be tough. But we gotta try, I guess. Maybe find out who is next at least."

Helene Ashton shook her head. “Aye, who knows what his magic can do now. But maybe he��ll talk. Startin’ to think I need to get everyone in the same room and help protect them.” As they entered the barracks, she pushed the door open with her foot and helped take Lloire inside. She then nodded to one of the beds. “There or the bench?”

Chance Ashton shrugged and motioned towards the closest bunk. "There's fine. Not like he's bleedin'. Benedict won't mind." A heavy sigh rattled from him. "I swear... this Lion better not be gunning to fight right away..."

Helene Ashton helped haul her brother to the bed and get him situated upon it. She then dusted off her hands and took a step back. “He said he would be comin’ for me later. Not sure what that meant but if Lion is ‘Lion’, like the nickname I gave him? It’s not goin’ to be a pretty fight, Chance. He is full blood berserk mode in that moment, yeah?”

Chance Ashton's brow furrowed as she explained. "Well, I see no reason I can't give you a hand with him. Doesn't seem these 'rules' of theirs mean shit." A groan alerted the couple to Lloire regaining consciousness and the Hyur reached up and rubbed his forehead gingerly. "Lion'll wait... He's not ready to fight. Wants the other sides to lose before he bothers to rouse..." He shook his head as his eyes adjusted to the light. "Well fought, both of you..."

Helene Ashton turned as Lloire came to. She waited for a beat to be sure he really was alright before slamming her gauntleted, mhigan fist into his gut to take the wind from him if possible. “That was for trying to kill Ikara. An’ you should be -real- fuckin’ apologetic for tryin’ to kill Chance because I am this close...” she pinched her fingers together for him “…to givin’ you a throttling.”

Lloire Peace took the hit with a loud "Umphh!" as she got her wish and the air was robbed from him. He took several moments to regain his breath and moved to a sitting position. "Yeah, I likely deserve that..." He said sheepishly as his other hand reached up to rub the back of his head idly. "I'm glad you're both okay..." He let out a sharp breath and shook his head. "You and Ikara both... Look, Hels, Chance... Let's say I go against this plan... and I decide I don't trust you all to win... Then what's gonna stop Shade or Lion from deciding to just surprise attack and kill the people I care about when they are in control. Right now there's an uneasy truce in my head. They all get a shot to prove they are the side that’s too dangerous to be part of me... that I can't have companions... If I go against that... They are just gonna take control when they damn well please and do what they want like they have been.”

Helene Ashton set her hands on her hips as she listened to the explanation and she was kind enough to at least do that. “Lion…no, droppin’ nicknames for now, Lloire! How is -killin- your companions any fuckin’ better, yeah? You an’ I both know that if you had killed Ikara, Chance, Me, or even Velestine, you would come out of it worse than before. Stop bein’ an’ idiot and let us help. You aren’t alone.”

Chance Ashton nodded, agreeing with Helene, for lack of a better option. This all sounded utterly insane to him. Lloire frowned. "Don't you understand Shield? This -is- me letting you help. This -is- me trusting you all. Maybe Ikara could fix my aether, but the underlying trauma would still be there. It'd shatter anew..." He frowned deeper. "They killed Claudettea... The Galreans know who Velestine is now... That says nothing about you or Ikara... add that to the fact that another one beside Balmora's taken an interest in me... do you really think they'll afford any of us the chance to put me through years of aethereal and psychological therapy? Do you think Shade would...? I trust you all to take out these shadows of mine... To prove to my subconscious that I really don't have to worry that I'll be the death of everyone -else- I hold dear. That not everyone is Aliya or Claudettea..."

Helene Ashton lofted her brows at the mention of Claudettea and her shoulders sunk a little. “I’m sorry ‘bout Claudettea, Lloire. I liked her.” A sigh. “Always have to mess with ya, don’t they?” She could have spit if she wanted to but sucked air through teeth instead. “Why not just gather all your companions and take out Balmora 2.0, yeah? Wouldn’t that prove we could handle it? The Warrior of Light doesn’t even work alone half the time and he has had his own shit to deal with.” A beat was given as she shifted her footing once more. “Look, I get it, yeah? But now that I know you are out tryin’ to -kill- us, I’m havin’ a hard time not packing up and following you.”

Chance Ashton nodded. "Or knock your ass out and go handle the Imperials ourselves, yea?" Lloire shook his head. "I was unconscious the last time I fought someone Chance... It wouldn't really do much good if I can manifest elsewhere..." He returned his attention to Helene. "I get your side... but if you tried, most of the shards would just refuse to fight and I'll stay... fragmented. Is this an elegant solution, even a wise or practical one... hell no. But it's better than slamming a dagger in my heart or turning myself over to the Garleans like I nearly did... so..." He huffed. "You're gonna have to trust me. And I have to trust all of you. And hopefully nobody gets killed in all this and I can be thoroughly proven wrong."

Helene Ashton turned and looked at Chance as if asking permission to beat the snot out of him in some respects. Though she didn’t move to do such, she stood there staring at her husband, taking his presence as a form of strength. She then looked to Lloire. “Couple things, yeah? You try to kill yourself again, and I will find someone to drag your ass back from the void. If anything, you fighting all of us should fuckin’ prove how loved you are by many even when you are as ‘broken’ as you are. Two, when you put yourself together again, you are marching your scrawny ass back here and planning an attack on that Garlean trash that messed with you, yeah? Three, you are makin’ everyone dinner.”

Chance Ashton nearly laughed as his Wife laid out her conditions and simply crossed his arms as though to show there was no arguing these conditions. Lloire listened and nodded, without a word. "You got it. When this is said and done... We'll put together a damned Company of Heroes and go bring the fucker to justice and then I'll hold a victory feast."

Helene Ashton stared at him for a few moments again and lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t think you’re comin’ out of this, do ya?”

Lloire stared up at her with a soft expression and shook his head. "On the contrary... I believe with all my heart that I will. I just need all of you to believe it too."

Helene Ashton wrinkled her nose as those freckles danced with the motion. “That was the fastest you ever agreed to somethin’ I said. So, you either must believe that you will, or you are staying positive so we will.” Both hands lifted to rub her temples then. “But I know you are too stubborn so I’m goin’ to trust ya on this one this time.”

Chance Ashton placed a hand on her shoulder and turned to Lloire. "My conditions now brother-in-law... Since this was my fight in theory... One... You don't have to stay here... you are too stubborn to do so... but you will rest before you go seeking anyone else out... Two... You tell us now who is next... Three... know that if my Wife comes back with even a single digit less than she has now... I'll carve from you anything she loses..." Lloire looked between the two and shook his head with a laugh. "I'll rest before the next fight, don't worry. I have to so my aether reabsorbs properly... I'm close to where my old friend Tyranie lives now... so she is likely next... Anything I take should be taken from me. I accept that... But I suspect she will do fine." He turned to Helene and smirked. "You really did need a Sword... He's exactly what I expected for you."

Helene Ashton glanced to Chance and smirked at his list. The last one made her look to Lloire with a grin. “Good. Glad ya agree, yeah?” His comment on ‘Sword’ made her roll her eyes. “Us stubborn types need someone that enables as well as puts us in check. He’s perfect at both.” Leaning down to get to eye level with him now, a mischievous hold took over her grin. “Sound familiar? How’s that Lion tamer of yours?”

Chance Ashton had to hold back from barking a laugh at her comments. Lloire however looked impassive at the taunting. "We'll have to see. You all have been through more of my..." Chance interrupted, "Insanity?" Lloire continued, "...life than she's had to so far, but she's seen enough to maybe have second thoughts by now. I'll let you know at the victory feast." The blue-haired Hyur made to stand. "I need to be on my way Shield, Sword. Thank you both... Continue to take care of one another..."

Helene Ashton took a step back to let him stand. “Let -her- make that choice this time, yeah? Since you’re keen on us proving ourselves.” She let it drop then and switched gears by coming in to wrap him up in a hug this time. Normally tensing at such a motion, she was rigid for a moment in the start, then settled, giving him one good squeeze. “I believe in you an’ all of us. I will see ya at dinner.” She then let go and stepped back like nothing happened, clearing her throat.

Lloire had been surprised by the hug but returned it with a smile before nodding at her and then Chance. "Aye. That's the plan." He stepped past them both, offering Chance another brief nod of respect before heading to the door. He paused as his hand wrapped around the handle. "Just make sure... you don't hold back when the time comes to face Lion, okay? You have to be at your best." With that, he was out the door and heading away.

Helene Ashton nodded to the comment. “I am back on training regimen first thing in the morning.” As he left, she gave a short wave and looked to Chance. “I’m going to need the best gear we can afford.” Despite her cockiness at the best of times, there was a small hint of fear in her gaze.

Chance Ashton took both of her shoulders into his hands and nodded. "Alright. We'll get it figured out." He smiled, his reluctant rare smile. "And you and I will spare between exercises. You'll be more than prepared for him."

Helene Ashton looked down between them and exhaled slowly from puffed cheeks. “It’s mostly the blows from the axe I’m worried about. He isn’t goin’ to tire in that state and that is how you get at that weapon. You tire the user.” She then looked back up at him and shifted her footing into a relaxed state. “But we’ve got time. First, let’s get ya to Benny so he can heal that nose, yeah?”

Chance Ashton nodded quietly. "Yea, let's go poke the bear." He smirked. "I think his new look will surprise you..." With that he took her hand into his and started for the door.

#ffxiv #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv rp #lloire peace #chance ashton #helene ashton #warrenson #ikara esho

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rsanders22 · 5 years ago

Text

First Meeting

//Wanted to write a fic about Askeladd (23) and Bjorn (17) meeting for the first time//

Askeladd looked up and drew his sword; he saw nothing and went back to his fire and sheathed his sword. He rotated his meat. He looked around and hoped that no animal would come his way. Or the berserker or whatever it was, “Don’t be ridiculous,” he told himself, “They’re like the Faye, just legends to scare people.” He had heard stories of berserker but again they were just myth. Though this village or at least this husk of what had been one was very silent. Had he come across a monster last night? He shrugged again and chopped the creature up to a starving bear. It had to be that. He took out a flask of mead that he brought along with him. Like all supplies he had, it was running low.

He leaned back and took a drink. He couldn’t shake the feeling and thought back to the previous night and the “bear”. What struck him was the fear that the monster had. Which was strange since from the stories berserkers seemed to have no fear since they had fallen into their frenzies. Also if it were a starving bear it wouldn’t have hesitated in killing him. Though from what he saw he figured this one was relying on instinct despite the rage. He also thought of the eyes white as a morning mist. He wasn’t scared of the creature of course; it had been years since he had been scared. He poked his meat it would be done soon. He heard a branch break. He sprang up, sword in one hand flask in the other. He saw a strange young man on a rock. “Who are you?” he asked. The young man was also wearing a bear skin, deer skin pants, and boots.

The young man was eating a honey comb and looked a bit confused, it had been years since he had talked to anyone. “Wh-who are y-yyou?” he asked back it took him a bit to form his question. He took a bite of honeycomb looking at the scary man.

“I asked you first,” said Askeladd sword drawn, “Who are you? Don’t make me ask again.”

“I’m uhh uhh,” he stammered at what he was called. He finished honeycomb to think. He had a name but what was it? Baldour? No Balwin? No again. Bjbb? Closer.

“Well you can talk and here I thought you were some type of bear,” said the other man with a laugh though he still had his weapon out.

The word bear had struck a chord with the young man, “Mmy name is B-Bjorn,” he finally answered. He pulled his bear skin over his eyes to hide his embarrassment, was he doing this right? He’d seen several people talk before but it had been years since he himself had talked to anyone.

Askeladd put his sword down and laughed some more, “Well I was right you are a bear.”

Bjorn didn’t like he was being made fun of, he had answered this person’s question. He put a hand in the pouch he had at his back. His hand hovered over one of the mushrooms inside, “Who are you?” he asked trying to save face he moved his hand away from the mushroom, “Also I’m human.”

“Fair enough,” he said as he sheathed his sword, “My name is Lu-Askeladd.”

“Luaskeladd?” he repeated, “Your name is really silly.” He laughed a little.

“No it’s just Askeladd, not Luaskeladd you stupid bear.”

“I’m not a bear,” he growled, “I’m Bjorn.” Even if that wasn’t his name, he liked how it sounded, “So shut up.”

“Whoa whoa calm down,” he said holding his hands up, “we’re just talking no need to lose your head just a friendly conversation.”

“Friends?” he asked looking down at the other man, “We’re friends? Never had one before.”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far,” said Askeladd, “I’m just saying we’re having a good conversation is all.”

“Then we’re enemies are you’re in my territory,” he replied reaching back for a mushroom. This man was making him nervous and he hated that.

“Your territory?” he said as it clicked, “Say you haven’t seen a berserker or a half starved bear have you? Cause I think that’s more of a problem then me.” He also noticed the mushroom.

“You’re the only monster here,” said Bjorn as he ate the mushroom. He was tired of talking with this man. Once he swallowed, he started to feel the warmth of his rage. His hands twitched, his breath grew warm. He began to growl as the rage took over. He beat the ground with his fist. “The enemy must fall. I must win,” he thought to himself. He leapt of his rock and ran at the man roaring. This man would fall like the others, except the man with cold blue eyes he had encountered last night. He let out another roar.

Askeladd couldn’t help but smile as the once sane person came rushing at him. As he had figured, this Bjorn was the monster. He had wanted a round two so he could test the raw strength of the creature for himself again. He wasn’t going to lose and also he had a plan for this new “friend” He put his sword away and got into a wrestling stance, no use cutting up his new asset to his goals.

Bjorn lumbered forward roaring and running to the man. He balled up his fist and punched causing the claws on his bear skin to follow. Askeladd dodged the hit though the claws were a bit worrisome, “Well I’m impressed,” he grinned as he got ready to hit back, “Oh that’s right you can’t hear me. Maybe we can talk when you’re calmed down.” He delivered a punch to the neck. That knocked the younger man off his feet but he quickly recovered. Askeladd couldn’t help but smile more, “So it is true, berserkers are really strong.”

Bjorn meanwhile was getting ready to attack again. All he could see were the fires and the dogs that ran in front of him. He also could see the other man and that strange look his eyes they didn’t hold fear like the others He could feel something but shook it off and went after the man, dogs, and fire. “He must fall,” he thought.

“Well I knew one hit wouldn’t bring you down,” laughed Askeladd, “So how long will you last?” He got ready to dodge the next hit. Also he knew that his meat was lost to the flames, “Come on, Bjorn let’s finish this I’m hungry.” The other man just kept growling and running at him.

Bjorn kept roaring and running to the other man. He breathed deeply; he could feel sweat pouring off him. He growled and circled around Askeladd. The other man couldn’t help but smile. “Why is he smiling,” thought Bjorn as the high was coming down. Normally at this point men would beg for death but not this. However the fear he still felt was there and he was feeling tired on the brink of passing out. Askeladd meanwhile was waiting for this moment though he had to admit that this had been a fun fight. He saw his opening and rushed under him and grabbed him. He lifted him up.

Bjorn even lost in a rage could feel the world changing and felt the hard ground. Then he was on his back and the man with the strange eyes on top of him. He growled and struggled. Askeladd looked down at Bjorn and said, “Well I have to say that was a fine fight though I did lose the meat I was cooking.” The other man kept growling and struggling. Askeladd sighed and waited till the he had calmed. “Ahh good back to your senses.”

“You won?” he asked, “I’ll follow.” The other man looked confused, “You beat me so you’re my leader. I won’t leave you.” He could respect the man who beat him in a fight so he was happy to follow someone stronger then him. Also he had a friend so he wouldn’t be lonely anymore.

“You’re taking this well,” said Askeladd off handily as he got up and stretched.

Bjorn got up too and saw the fire, “I have meat to share.” He shook the dust off his bear skin. He then signaled for Askeladd to follow him. The other just shrugged and followed him deeper into the woods, “Sometimes merchants come here and well I scare them or I kill them.” He smiled a bit proudly.

Askeladd smiled back, “I guess I’m the first to beat you?” Bjorn nodded yes as he stopped at a cave, “Here you go. One of the more recent people had a smoked hog. Also I got some drink too but it’s too bitter for me.”

Askeladd grabbed a piece of meat and smiled, “You know I think this will be the beginning of a good friendship.”

“So we’re friends?” he asked trying to hide the pleading look in his eyes.

“Yes, I believe so,” the other man smiled back. He picked up a chunk of smoked meat. Bjorn picked up a barrel of mead. They made their way back to the fire.

#askeladd #bjoooorn #vinland saga bjorn #vinland saga

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thirstyforbishiesimagines · 6 years ago

Note

hey hey! I wanted to say a big thank you to you guys for writing such great fics! And I wanted to request a Lawrence x reader? it would be really great if the reader was really strong and liked helping take out zombies and Lawrence admired that! Thank you so much! (and if you don't want to do this for any reason feel free to ignore it!)

Aww that’s so sweet, thank you so much for the support and for reading! Sorry this one took a little while to release, hope you didn’t think we ignored it!

Enjoy xx

More than a Pretty Face - Lawrence POV x Reader

* image from LucyDreams, Dangerous Fellows

Word Count: 862

General / Fluff

Warning: Profanity

Ahh… finally. It had been a while since my last experiment took place.

I wave, signalling to the others to hide within the empty alleyway as we make our way towards a nearby general store to gather supplies. (Y/N) sprints behind me, following my movements as Zion scouts out the area before moving forward. I kept our group small – easy to manipulate. My skin itches with anticipation, eager to analyse the results of my new test. I lead them around the back alleys, climbing atop a dumpster to “have a better view” before readying my wrench to slip out of my fingers ‘unintentionally’.

BANG.

The deafening sound of metal on metal echoes through the once eerily silent town. I force myself to control the smile threatening to creep upon my lips as (Y/N) and Zion’s faces are overcome with fear.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE LAWRENCE!” Zion yells angrily, shooting me a look of exasperation before turning back, gripping his steel pipe and bracing himself for the upcoming battle. I pay no mind to his reaction.

You’re lucky I need a lackey to vouch for me when we get back today.

(Y/N) stays silent, looking around frantically as Zion continues to curse under his breath.

Right… She hasn’t acquired a weapon just yet. Hmm, that’s too bad. I was hoping to see the last remaining glimmers of hope fade away from her gorgeous eyes before realising she had no way of surviving. It’s unfortunate, (Y/N) really was quite attractive…

My eyes continue to linger on her.

If only I hadn’t begun to run out of test subjects, perhaps you could’ve stayed by my side just that little while longer. However, I need more than a pretty face right now and the others are much too valuable in combat to sacrifice… for now.

The familiar growls of those brainless monsters greet my ears and I shiver in delight at the scene about to take place; excited to see the mass of zombies that I had painstakingly lured nearby for this moment. As the horde was coming into view, (Y/N) spots a ragged broom tossed beside the dumpster and decides to grab it for defence. I nearly break character, holding myself back from snickering at her desperation.

What on earth was she going to do with that useless thing? Clean up the unfaithful shards of her dignity scattered upon the floor?

I clamp my mouth shut, denying myself the satisfaction of a chuckle – afraid to blow my cover. As the horde finally reaches our vicinity, (Y/N) grips each end of the broom and unexpectedly kicks her knee up to snap the handle in two – forming two makeshift weapons with jagged sharp ends for each hand. Eyes wide – I stare at her, impressed by her quick wit and creativity. It was then, that I heard more growls in the distance, coming from the opposite direction of the horde I had organized prior.

Fuck. This wasn’t a part of the plan.

I jump off the dumpster, getting ready to run.

I need to take Zion and leave as soon as she’s overshadowed by the horde. It’s regretful that I won’t be able to watch the show, but I can’t risk losing one of my best defenders.

However, the time to go and leave her behind never seemed to arrive.

As if perfectly choreographed, (Y/N) glides through the horde of zombies, smoothly impaling her improvised weapons through them – like a hot knife through butter. Her strength and grace were an amazing sight to behold. I couldn’t help but be mesmerised by her movements as she singlehandedly defeats the first horde, it was as if I was witnessing a dance of death.

The battle had ended as soon as it began, with motionless bodies strewn around her – I was at a loss for words. As (Y/N) makes her way back to us, her eyes sparkle with joy and she lets out the most beautiful sound I ever had the pleasure of hearing. Her laugh rings through my ears as she flashes us a breathtaking smile, causing my heart to beat wildly in my chest.

“That was… surprisingly… exhilarating.” She giggles as she catches her breath.

After recovering from her sudden exertion of energy, she walks past us without hesitation – her aura exuding a modest confidence, ready to take on the next.

“Well, damn… That was pretty hot.”

I snap my attention back to Zion, his words igniting a burning fire in my core. I catch him gawking at her as she stretches, preparing herself for the next horde. Suddenly feeling possessive over her, I walk over to (Y/N) – blocking his view before placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her (e/c) eyes fall upon mine and I nod my head in reassurance, choosing to fight by her side. Her lips curl up into a warm smile, understanding my intentions. We then take stance, eager for the battle ahead.

This wasn’t exactly the result I was anticipating; however, it looks as though my little miscalculation left me with an even more valuable asset. Now, it seems I may need her in more ways than one…

I need her to be mine.

x mod luna

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mochixjimin · 6 years ago

Text

The Truth Untold

Jeon Jungkook | BTS | angst

Word Count: 6.8K

Warnings: Mentions of assault, attempted suicide, self harm, minor violence, and language

A/N: ~~Indicates past events~~ italics are Jungkook’s thoughts

“I can’t show you my weakness, so I’m putting on a mask to go see you.“

Busan, 12 am.

The open summer spring skies had hues of blues and blacks with bright white specs painting the fading night going into the next day. High school students bumbling about, laughing, and virtually screaming after exams were over, all he could do was chuckle, “Glad those days are over.” Jungkook smiled and took a small swig of the beer bottle perched at the table of the street ramen booth you two often visited on your days off from classes.

He went to touch his neck, feeling around for the chain with the silver metal circle on it that he wore around his neck months after he met you. Jungkook smiled when he thought about the day you gave it to him.

~~~~~~~~~

It was the week before Christmas break and he’d finally gotten up the courage to ask you out, “Okay Jeon, don’t punk out now. ___ is almost here for the hot cocoa date, everything is perfect.” He thought to himself as he spent the evening getting all of your favorite things, snacks, a little bear that said “I love you” in his cute voice for her.

“Wow, Jungkook this is perfect! We were just watching movies, you didn’t have to do all this, I’m not worth it really.” She voiced, incredulously looking at all the work he put in for her, “You are so sweet, where are the people like you? I haven’t had a friend do anything like this for me before.”

He smiled and inwardly his heart beat at a fast pace, while his final present held behind his hands for ___, it was a bracelet with their names etched in with the words, “I love you noodlehead.” Yes, it was stupid, but the first time he met ___, they bonded over an accidentally spilled bowl of her spicy noodles all over his uniform in high school. She felt so bad that she poured the rest of the ramen on her head, “See, now we match!” and they were friends ever since.

“Um, ____? I need to tell you something, as you know we’ve been friends for a long time and we’ve been through a lot, but I wanted to let you know that I’m in l-” He almost finished as the door made a couple quick knocks, “Oh sorry Jungkook! I forgot to tell you that Jimin is coming over, get another mug please.”

“Jimini-hyung? I thought you hated him?” He spoke, shoving the box with the jewelry in his back pocket.

She answered him as she turned to open the door, “Well yeah, I did, but he’s not that bad. Yoongi-oppa invited us to listen to his mixtape before he released it, and I had fun, he’s not an immature man baby like I thought.”

Jungkook’s face reddened in slight anger; it wasn’t that he didn’t like Jimin, but the older male was too flirty for his liking and it always toward ____, when she told him that she wished Jimin wasn’t so childish made him perk up in a hopeful stance.

“Sup Jungkookie, I hope it’s okay that ___ invited me; What are we watching tonight?” Jimin asked as he flashed a quick smile to Jungkook and took off his jacket to put an arm around ____, making Jungkook turn green with envy.

“Yeah, whatever, just shut up when the movie plays.” He muttered and sat down as he started to press ‘play’ on the remote.

As the movie played, he couldn’t even believe this, ___ was laughing and leaning on Jimn, occasionally she would poke at Jungkook’s face telling him to stop crossing his arms, “Kookie, you’re gonna get frown lines! Is the movie bad? I tried to find a cheesy Christmas movie, but if it really sucks then we can watch something else?”

“No, no. It’s fine,” Jungkook lied as he forced out a faked smile to ___ but eyes shooting daggers at Jimin, “the movie is perfect. Just like you.”

She chuckled and spoke up, “Aw, Kookie. You’re so sweet! Also, I saw this man at the market today, and he had rings on sale! There was a couple's discount, so I got you one too! Now we can be friends forever, and he gave me a free engraving since it’s the holiday season!”

He beamed at the rings, and he softened as he saw the etched phrase, “Ramen Forever, love you!”

Jungkook went to reach in his back pocket, “I got you this too, Merry Christmas noodlehead.”

“Jungkookie! You said you would never talk about that again! My hair smelled like chili paste for a week” ____ said as she turned to Jimin to help her put the bracelet on her wrist.

“Hey, hey, can you two shut up now, we get you’re best friends. Can we go back to the movie now?” Jimin interrupted as he latched the clasp together on her wrist, Jungkook narrowed his eyes at Jimin for breaking him and ___ out their separate conversation, but answered, “Yeah sure, let’s continue.”

~~~~~~~~~

He was happily lost in a trance when he heard, “Oh, Kook-ah, you thinking about ___, again? Are planning the future wedding, I can be your best man! But, uh, I'm already going to let you know that you'll only get a bottle of Soju from me; we are broke college students after all.”

Taehyung teased as he gave him a tight back hug, tousled the younger male's dark locks, and sat down to ask the man at the grill for a bottle. “Well, how have you been? I mean it’s almost like I lost my roommate.” Taehyung mused after not seeing him since you two spent pretty much the entire spring break together and going over her and Minji's apartment every evening, "I hope they don’t make you start paying for rent and groceries. Minji doesn’t play about her kitchen or the fridge."

Jungkook outwardly laughed at his friend, “Tae” he chuckled, “Minji-noona spends like seven hundred percent of her time with Hoseok-hyung now, they're practically inseparable. But you seriously believe that in a couple of years, all you could give me for my wedding present is a tiny bottle of alcohol?" He responded, completely sidestepping the denial of liking ___, "But no, we just played games and drank beer, can’t good friends do that?”

“Bullshit! You’ve been over there just drinking and lazing around? Did you sleep on the couch? She makes me sleep on the couch!”

His eyebrow quirked, then he turned to the older male, “Well, I was going to at first… But, you know how __ is! She hates people sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook quickly finished, acting as if that excuse made any sense to which Taehyung countered, “Jungkook, what? ___ practically made me and Jimin scrunch up on that very couch two months ago! I know her bed can fit at least 4 people, and she made us sleep in the living room! My back is still killing me from that night, maybe I should have slept in Minji's bed, Hoseok-hyung probably wouldn’t have minded…”

Jungkook laughed at Taehyung, smiled inward, and prided himself on the fact that she wouldn’t let anyone else but him and her girlfriends coming over to sleep in her bed. “I mean what can I say hyung, maybe ___ doesn’t want you two stinking up her bed, also you like to cuddle people, and Jimin practically rolls all over the place. You’re lucky she didn’t make you two sleep on the floor.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and continued to tease Jungkook, “Oh, whatever Kook-ah, you're in love with her, and we all know it.” Taehyung continued, surprised that he brought up the other man’s name, “And wow, you said his name. Have you two talked since–” he went to finish until Jungkook cut him off hastily, “Not yet,” he grumbled, “I will, but he needs to apologize for what he said; it was uncalled for and rude.”

Taehyung let out a haughty chuckle, tipping the green bottle of liquor sat on the wooden table into one of the glasses perched between them, “What did he do anyway? All he said was that you ripped his head off because you saw them wrestling or something the other day. I’ve never seen him so rattled, you two really need to kiss and make up.”

Jungkook’s jaw visibly tightened, it wasn’t the fact that they were messing around, it was the fact that ___ could have gotten hurt.

~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook texted ___ to leave her key under the mat, saying that he needed to come over and share a drink at the ramen shop on the corner. When Jungkook stuck the key into the lock, he heard faint noises, kind of like ___ and maybe someone else? He just assumed it would be her and Minji arguing over whether to watch a cooking show or a baking show, Jungkook really didn’t get the big difference, but whatever ___ liked, he would agree to watch, no matter how boring.

Once Jungkook remembered what a rough day he had in his engineering class, he couldn’t wait to see ___ and a nice bowl of pork ramen. He screwed up a design that could have been fatal if it were test run, but the thought vacated his mind when he saw and heard her make an ungodly sound as Jimin sat up on your hips. “Jiminie!! Aish, get off me, you fat ass, we can watch your crime drama! We could have flipped a coin, you jerk!”

“Jimin. What in the fuck are you doing to my ___?” He spat, slightly startling them as they looked up to Jungkook with one hand still on the knob of the door and the other clutching his backpack strap in a death grip.

He didn’t even bother to not sound possessive, adding ‘my’ to whenever he talked about her, but he knew she didn’t mind because usually it was always matched with love in his voice, but this instance was nothing of the sort; it was seething pure of jealousy and annoyance.

Jimin laughed, still holding your flailing arms lightly in his hands, “Aish, Kookie calm down, she isn't your pet. ___ tried to get the remote from me and guess who lost?”

You ignored Jungkook's words, let out an exasperated groan, and grumbled, “Yeah, yeah, I almost had you! Jimin-oppa just had to put that luscious booty on me, and I was out for the count.”

Jimin aired an over exaggerated gasp when he crouched to pull you up, “___-ah, have you been staring at my ass!? You stinker!”

When you were both upright, his eyes went into crescents, lithe hands going from your wrists up to your face to pinch your cheeks, lightly spoke and feigned shock, “Ahh, ___-ssi! How dare you, take me to dinner first!”

She laughed and weakly tried to dodge his hands from going toward her glistened face, “Stoooop! Jiminie, shush!! We are younger than you, but you can at least call me sunbae, okay?” You voiced as you went to the kitchen to get some water and fan yourself off, but Jungkook had already lost it. “Jimin-oppa? When did she start to call you that?"

Jimin brushed it off and attempted to ask him how his day went when the younger boy continued, "___-ssi? You’re older than us, hyung. You need to start acting like an actual adult.” He couldn’t help but grit this sentence, grimacing.

"Well, uh, ___-ah and I are just playing Kookie. You know I don’t care about formal titles, we're all friends here. Besides, it's only two years, and I'm not an ahjussi just yet." Jimin comically added and shrugged, but Jungkook disregarded him, and continued to scold you two; well, mostly Jimin. “You two shouldn’t be messing around like that. Don’t you ever put your hands on my ___, if she wants something, just give it to her.”

Sensing the unnecessary palpability, Jimin continued to push him, and a smug grin painted his face, “So if she wanted my dick, should I just give it to her?”

Before he could think, Jungkook’s hands were tangled in Jimin’s shirt, pressing the shorter man up against the nearby wall, “If you ever talk about her like that again, I will fucking end you, got me Jimin-ssi?”

The older man's eyes bulged, and he began to speak up when ___ interrupted, still in the kitchen, “Hey! What are you two doing in there!? Jiminie did you drop something, you klutz!”

Jungkook, hands still twisted in the light material, bared his eyes toward Jimin, collected his composure and calmly responded, “Aha, ___, you know Jimin! He has a hard time keeping his hands in his pockets. He’s always touching things that aren’t his business to even look at.” Lowering the last sentence in a hushed voice only they could hear.

Jimin visibly gulped and tried to answer as well without alerting her that something was wrong, “U-um, yeah ___-ah, don’t worry about me! I was just about to go, Minji texted me about our Physics project, I’ll see you around.” With that, Jungkook let go of his shirt, smoothed it out, virtually shoved him out the door, and nearly slammed it in anger.

“Awh, damn. Jimin didn’t tell me bye,” she pouted walking back into the room and putting her hands over her chest, “What were you two even talking about? Why did he have to go, Minji-unnie told me before she went to bed last night that they finished that project a few days ago…”

He shrugged and went to pat your shoulders, “Oh, well maybe they changed something in the end. I thought noona said it wasn’t due until the end of the month anyway. Are you okay?”

She uncrossed her arms, listened to him, and laughed, “Kookie, I’m fine, seriously. You gotta stop calling me yours and why you get so worked up about me; I could have beaten his ass any day, you know that!”

Jungkook ignored her words, but the phrase “beaten his ass” stuck out presently in his mind out of the entire statement, “Also, ___-ah… has Jimin-hyung been a little more, um- handsy with you? I don’t like it, he’s such a pervert.”

___ chortled, nearly tumbling over in gasps, “Jeon Jungkook, ew, how could think like that! Jiminie is a dummy, we were just playing around. You know how he is, I like when he's silly with me.”

She looked up towards his stern face cupped it, and smiled brightly, “It was nothing for you to worry about, okay? Today was just I don’t know, meh. I wanted to watch Cake Wars, but he didn’t, so we argued, and somehow I ended up on the floor. What a bummer, I almost had him for a moment there too.”

He always loved how she never got too upset about such trivial things and reassured him, especially when her smaller hands moved to his face, making his striking features soften and lean into her touch. His hands dropped to her waist to pull her closer into a hug, and he softly smiled, “Okay. Well, ____-ah, I’m here now and let’s see if those bakers from New York figured out how to put the clock on the cake design without overshadowing Alice and her dress.”

She beamed and jumped on him to carry her to the couch, “Ah, Kook-ah!! I haven’t seen that part yet! Hush!”

~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung snapped in front of his face, “Ya! Jungkook-ah, why do you keep zoning out, what happened with you and Jimin?”

“Hyung, don’t worry about it. When Jimin decides to grow up and apologize, then it’s square.” He said, cutting any room for questions when he abruptly changed topics, “Anyways, we should swing by ____ and Minji's. It's movie night, Minji picked though, so get ready to watch another sappy rom-com. Have either of them texted you?”

Taehyung sensed the air of annoyance lingering over Jungkook's past conversation with Jimin, so he brushed it off and responded to the latter, “You know what? I totally forgot about the movie tonight, but to answer your question, no. The last thing ___ texted me was that she would give my hoodie back whenever we stopped by, but I could have sworn I told her that she could have it for her birthday last year… She’s been acting so strange lately? The other day when we were over there, she went on a thirty-minute tirade because Jin-hyung and Namjoon-hyung were too old to be play fighting, I hope she’s not too stressed.”

Taehyung’s genuine concern about her made Jungkook worry even more. ___ was very strange for the last few weeks: forgetting assignments, sleeping in a painfully obvious amount, and changing her outfits drastically in this heat. The weather began to increase in a hot, humid fashion this spring, but she opted for long sleeves, hoodies, and continuously wore sweatpants to cover her body from the neck down, it was odd, but she did always complain about being cold, so you didn’t pay it any mind. Plus with finals and everything approaching, Jungkook just assumed that she was trying to be steadfast in her studies.

___ had also started texting vaguely and declining any invites out, something not quite like her. “Hey, hyung. Let’s go see her then, maybe she’s down about something? I hope she isn’t pouting around by herself.”

Taehyung nodded in agreement, but just before they were about to head out, his phone rang. The screen flashed Hoseok's name and a picture of him wearing the flower outfit took over the screen, he smiled and went to answer. "Oh, hey hyung, me and Jungkook were just a--" Jungkook turned his head in confusion at the abrupt end to his sentence to look at Taehyung; the older male's face drained to a pale white and his mouth agape, "Hyung… What's wrong? Did Yeontan get out again?" Jungkook questioned, about to make a joke about his dog escaping, but all Taehyung could mutter was, "We need to go to the hospital."

Taehyung ended the call with Hoseok saying, "We'll be there in ten mintues hyung; we're at the ramen stall four blocks up the street." He laced his hand around Jungkook's wrist, nearly yanking his whole arm out of the socket to flag down a taxi, but Jungkook wouldn’t budge, "Taehyung-ah! What is happening?! Tell me."

"Jeon Jungkook, just get in the fucking car. It's about ___, I'll tell you on the way, hurry up." Taehyung aired, void of all formalities at the moment since the younger male decided to drop them in slowly built anger, and pulled Jungkook into the taxi.

Busan, 1:15 am.

The hospital emergency room toiled with varying situations, from a minor bruises to gunshot victims, but all he could worry about was you. "She's on the third floor, this way," Taehyung mentioned, dragging Jungkook's dazed self away from the directory sign to go where she was.

Once they got to the waiting area, he saw Jin and Hoseok comforting Minji, Jungkook noticed that she was only wearing a baggy tee and what he assumed were leggings and slipper like shoes; her hair was pulled into a messy bun, eye makeup was smudged, and she kept incoherently muttering, "W-water, so m-m-much water."

At that, she burst back into tears and Hoseok pulled her into his lap, sighed, and rubbed her back lovingly. When Hoseok looked up, he saw the two of you; he went to speak, but Jin sent him a soft look that he would handle it, so that Hoseok could continue to comfort Minji.

"Hyung, what happened, how could she… I don’t understand, is ___ okay?" Taehyung asked for him, for Jungkook's mouth was drier than sand in the Sahara desert.

Both of them could tell that he had been crying as well; his face was puffy and reddened, his lips were swollen like he gnawed at them, and his eyes looked blown out and strained. "We just didn't know she was struggling, I mean she mentioned to me and Joon that she feeling anxious and a bit paranoid, but I thought that it was because her formal presentation to the research committee was coming up. They had to pump her stomach, but the doctor said that ____ will be fine. She's sleeping right now. Yoongi and Namjoon went out to get Minji something to eat, but Jungk-"

"How could she do this. We spent almost every day together, why the fuck didn’t she tell me." Jungkook interjected, finally finding the words to speak, "She acted like she was okay, how-- why would she do something so fucking stupid."

Taehyung, trying to calm him, but scolding him for his insensitive comments, "Hey now, watch it Jungkook. ___ can't be bright and cheery one hundred percent of the time; we don’t know how she was feeling. All that matters is that she's safe now."

Jungkook, feeling like a complete jerk, apologized and walked past them to speak with Minji and Hoseok, "Hey… How are you doing noona?"

She looked up and scowled at him, "Me, how am I doing? Oh, I'm fucking amazing. My roommate and best friend in the whole, wide world attempted to kill herself, but how was your day?"

Hoseok aired a dejected sigh, "Baby…"

"What, I went to study for that stupid ass Physics exam with Jimin, and she kept texting me all this weird stuff. Why didn't I realize what she was doing, I literally just read about this shit in one of her Psych books." She let out a haughty, unsteady breath, then continued, "___ said she wanted me to take her laptop, I thought it was broken again. I never understood why she wouldn’t just buy a newer one, she is the cheapest bitch I've ever met. I bet she has enough money to buy the entire Mac store for Christ's sake."

Minji paused to laugh, "___ is so damn cheap." Tears began to spring back into her eyes when she thought about easy it was to read ___, or that she thought she could, "I told her that I'd fix it when me and Jimin touched up the final parts of our project, so she just sent me a weird message to forget about it, but I knew that she would just pout if I didn’t hurry up and fix it."

She stopped to regain a semblance of steadiness in her voice, but it failed her. Breathing deep and closing her eyes, "We argued a few days ago about that, but I was over it; it was so dumb of me to get mad at her, we both know if her computer caught fire, I would still fix it. When we got to the door, I went to unlock it, but it was already open; ___ would never do that. She always bitched if the deadbolt wasn’t turned, so I knew that something was off. I tried to call her like six times on the way over, but Jimin said that maybe she went out with you and left her cellphone by accident, but there's no way; ___ is very picky, she would have let me know if she'd be gone or at the very least, she would have told Jungkook-ah to text me."

Jungkook and Taehyung now sat on the other side of Minji and Hoseok; Jin received a call from Namjoon and took off to look for him and Yoongi, wondering what was taking them so long. Taehyung started to cry when he listened to Minji recount the evening, Hoseok still had his arm wrapped around her, the other laid across her thigh stroking it and indicating that it would be alright to inform them. Jungkook wouldn’t release any other emotion other than a hard, steely look on his face, harshly clearing his throat to stifle the tears in his eyes.

"Baby, you don’t have to tell us right now. You need to rest, I'll tell Namjoon to take you to his for the night" Hoseok said, trying to soothe his girlfriend, but Minji was always so headstrong, "No. I'm not leaving until she wakes back up. I'll be okay, just text Jin-oppa to bring me a fleece blanket from wherever they went, I'm not hungry."

Hoseok sighed again, heeded her words, and took his phone out to text Jin. Minji, now a little more calm, leaned back into Hoseok's chest and let out a huff to brace herself, "I went in to check her room to see if she had maybe fallen asleep, b-but it was like I stepped in a puddle, and my socks felt wet. There was… there was just so much water on the floor. I walked to her bathroom and she was passed out in the tub with all these pills, they--they were everywhere."

She leaned forward, placed her elbows on the tops of her knees, and palmed her face before continuing, "I should have known, why didn't I tell Jimin to piss off and study another day; I was so swamped with everything, I forgot about her. If I hadn't left for the library, she wouldn’t be in the hospital. We would be eating nothing but junk food and getting ready for movie night… I actually thought about picking an action movie this time. Our last words would have been me screaming at her over being so tight about money. What if I hadn’t felt that something was off, she would be dead, I-- she could have actually--"

Hoseok stood up, carefully standing in front of her in a protective stance hiding her from the other two men to wipe the fresh tears from her eyes, "Okay, baby, that’s enough. Jin-hyung found Joonie and Yoongi-hyung, they'll be here any moment. I want you to go home with Namjoon like I said. I promise that I will call you as soon as she wakes up. " He told rather than suggested to Minji as he laced his larger hand in her shaky one and walked her to Namjoon and Yoongi.

"God. We all should have known, I hope Minji can sleep tonight…" Taehyung finally aired, breaking the silence after they watched the older man take his girlfriend to the others so she could get some rest.

Jin came back to sit where Hoseok sat a few moments earlier to speak up, "Oh man, Minji is so shaken up, we should go see how ___ an-"

"She's awake?! We can go in see her now?" Jungkook interrupted him for the second time, "C'mon Taehyung, let's go!"

Jin rolled his eyes at Jungkook's impatience and grabbed his arm before he broke the door down, "Jungkook, slow down. I need to let you know that-"

"Damnit hyung, get off. I want to see her, now back up." Jungkook bit, snatched his arm away, and blindly went to open the door when he saw him.

To anyone else, it looked like a boyfriend that was deeply in love and would stay there as long it took for their love to wake up, but to Jungkook it disgusted and angered him, "Jimin, what in the fuck are you in her bed for?" He nearly snarled at the older male lying next to ____, huddled near her sleeping form, and hand laced with hers.

Taehyung clearly sensing the terse air, attempting to deter from the younger's offensive stance, "Jiminie, how long have you been here? Why didn’t you come out, didn’t you hear us out there?"

"I couldn’t leave her Taehyung, I texted Jin-hyung that she was awake for a bit, but she's still pretty drained." Jimin responded, completely ignoring Jungkook's childish behavior, but clearly, he wouldn’t have it, "Hyung, if you don't get away from her, you perverted fuck. How dare you try to get your dick hard from her passed out, she could have died."

Jimin blinked in awe and got up from the bed where ___ lie, still asleep, but he got up to defend himself, "What in the fuck is wrong with you? ___ almost died, and you're pissed off because I'm cuddling her in the bed?"

Jungkook wanted to scream. His arms tensed in anger as if he were going to punch Jimin square in the jaw but he retorted, "You know damn well that I am right. ___ isn't yours, why in the fuck are anywhere near her when I told you I'd lay your ass out if even did so much to look in her direction."

"What?"

A familiar voice meekly rang out, and all three of them turned to see her awake, but still dazed when Jimin flew across the room to her side, “Oh fuck! ___!? Sweetheart are you okay, here drink some water.”

She took a few sips from the cup in Jimin’s hand and joked, “Haha, well oppa, it feels like I haven’t eaten for a week, but I’m okay. I got your clothes wet… I’m so sorry baby.”

Jimin beamed at her softly and joked, “Well, I’ll send you the invoice for my new boots.” He smiled as tears came back to dust his eyes when he put one hand to her face as if they were lost in their own world, “No sweetheart, no apologies. Remember? You just had a bad day and we can work through it, but don’t apologize for how you’re feeling. They’re valid and you shouldn’t be sorry for how you feel.”

Jungkook butted in once more pulling them back into the question he asked, “What the fuck is going on!? I swear to God, back away from my ___.”

“Wow. Um, Kook-ah why don’t you ju–” Taehyung tried to diffuse the situation but Jungkook’s rage broke them out of the bubble they were in and she groggily aired, “Tae-Tae, Jiminie, can you two leave us alone for a bit?”

“Are you sure? I can handle Ju–"

“I got it Jiminie, thanks. I know it must have been uncomfortable lying next to me like a sardine; just go out in the waiting room with Tae, I bet you two are starving.” She lightly aired, always caring about the next person rather than herself.

Taehyung and Jimin obliged then left the room, leaving ___ and Jungkook to finally cut the tense feelings between him and Jimin, but Jungkook spoke first, “Why would you lie to me? You said you didn’t even like Jimin! You assured me of that when he left that day.”

She took a sip of water from the cup on the rolling table next to the bed and lowly chuckled, “Are you serious? If that’s what you’re worried about, then you need to back the hell up and get a grip.” ___ said, trying to resituate in a way that was comfortable for her back and also to look at Jungkook better as he stood indignant and still angry. “Things can change, yeah Jimin was immature to me, but the more time we spent together, the more I fell for him, I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“You didn’t mean to fall for him? What about us?” Jungkook annoyingly aired, then continued his tantrum, “I love you. I thought you loved me, you fucking lied to me.”

“What about us? Of course, I love you Jungkook, but you’re my best friend.” She retorted and he crumpled inside, figure staggering, “B-but… the rings? You let me sleep in your bed, you always flirt, my name for you… I though–”

“Excuse me? Just because I do nice things for you, does not mean I’m in love with you. It’s fucking misogynistic of you to assume we have some love like the romance movies because of stupid shit like that, and I fucking hate when you say "My ___”. I am not your property, I tell you all the time to stop saying it, Jimin gets so upset when you lay claim to me like I’m a fucking dog. You shouldn’t perpetuate those stereotypes and I cannot even believe you thought for a second that I enjoyed that bullshit. The rings were for friends, I know I worded it wrong, but they were friendship rings Kookie. Also, I only let you sleep in my bed because you kept complaining and I didn’t want you to be in a mood because Taehyung likes to cuddle people in his sleep and tried to smother you the last time you guys were at my place.“

Even as ___ went off on him, he couldn’t listen. She was alright, but why Jimin? What did he have that Jungkook didn’t, "How many people knew?”

“What?”

“How many people knew, ___? Or did you two have fun keeping this thing a secret.” He gritted, looking to her for an answer when she angrily said, “God, Jungkook stop this! Our relationship has nothing to do with you. I begged you to stop being so fucking selfish and listen to me, but you only care about yourself. I tried several times to invite Jimin with us or to a movie night, but you go out of your way to make him feel left out.”

He let out a haughty laugh, unfazed by your addition of Jimin to cruelly spit, “I’m the selfish one? Sure. You chose to kill yourself and I’m the selfish person? You never even told me about your depression, what the fuck?”

She looked toward him in shock, “Get the fuck out.”

He quickly attempted to backtrack & apologize before she cut him off to lay into him more, “Are you out of your fucking mind. How dare you, I’ve been managing my depression for years; you didn’t know because you didn’t want to; it would kill the halo you keep over my head.”

He stared at her, opening and closing his mouth failing to find something to make it better, ”____… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Can we forget it and start over?“

____ looked at him for a long time, trying to find the correct words that would make him understand, “Jungkook that’s the problem. You always spout off anything you fucking want to and I’m left to clean up your mess. You think that you can do no wrong and I should fall to your feet and beg for your attention. Just listen for once in your goddamned life.” ___ calmed down and felt tears mist your eyes, “Do you remember the EXO frat party we went to as freshmen?”

His eyes softened and searched the room as if he could remember; that night was a blur, but he remembered you two got separated somehow and received a message saying that she was fine and would meet up with him sometime later, “Uh, yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”

She let out a shaky breath, tears falling down her face in slow traces, “That night when we were separated, one of the frat guys hassled me, I tried to get him to back off, but he wouldn’t leave me alone unless he could get me a drink. We talked for a few minutes, but when I tried to go, he groped me and noticed I started to get dizzy,” she laughed, trying to veil the sentiment in a lighter tone, “I mean you hear about these things, I never thought it would be me…”

As she trailed off to clear her throat, Jungkook interjected, “____… W-were you assaulted at the party that night?” His hands were tensed back up, arm veins so prominent, they looked as if they would burst. His steely grimace twisted in anger then disgust and his eyes were clouded with tears just as yours were, “Who the fuck hurt you, and I’ll kill them.”

“No, Jungkook, please don’t. He got me up to his room and then it was kind of a blur, but luckily Hoseok and Jin were there as well to get the bastard off me and get me to the hospital. I was terrified; what would people think, what would you think? A stupid freshman girl out drinking alone? How could I be so careless?” She aired, voice still broken, "After that night, I "took that vacation abroad” but I was in and out of the court trying to get that stain’s sorry ass sent to prison. I spent every night waking up in cold sweats, crying and screaming for help. Minji was worried I would try to cut again, so she told Jimin to “hang out” with me, but I hated him for it because I knew what they were doing.“

___ laughed, this time in the way she did whenever Yoongi would send her a picture of a puppy in a wig, but Jungkook couldn’t believe any of this and stood still as you continued, "Anyways, Jimin came over and I absolutely wanted to strangle him, but after a couple hours, he had me outside, enjoying things the way I used to. I also stopped having those nightmares and even when I had a bad day, he could just tell. I wouldn’t have to mention anything, he would just come over and lay with me, whether I needed to cry or yell at him, he would let me. Then one day we kissed and it felt right, like a puzzle piece you’ve been looking for and it can finally complete the picture.”

But I could do all those things, all you had to do was ask, I would have been there for you in a heartbeat. “So, Jimin and you have been together for three years. And that day I walked in on you two…”

“Yes, he was trying to cheer me up because I had a panic attack. Thankfully, I got my attacker expelled, but his frat buddies weren’t so pleased that I got their frat expelled from campus and left a few of them to look for lawyers as well… they were leaving horrible notes for me and making anonymous threats, I tried to go to the campus police, but they can’t protect me for the rest of my time here, and it just got to be too much.” You finished, staring off into the space where the pullout recliner chair for visitors sat, “That’s why I never go to those type of parties anymore, or how I flinch when you come up and startle me; I’m just fearful, but with Jimin and some counseling has helped it be manageable.”

He just couldn’t understand, curtly asking, “Then why did you try to hurt yourself? How come you wouldn’t tell me? Does anyone else know?”

She sighed, “I don’t know, my research presentation was coming up, I got in a fight with Minji, and everything just didn’t matter anymore; I just thought it would be better if I died. Only Jimin, Hoseok, Jin, Minji and maybe Yoongi know, but I couldn’t tell you, just look at you now; I can’t have someone I care about throwing their life away for a creep.”

“But he deserves it! No one should lay a hand on my- you.” He started up and quieted down as he almost claimed her as his again out of habit, “Why did you leave the rest of us in the dark?”

“Taehyung couldn’t handle this, with the death of both his aunt and cousin that year, I just couldn’t put that on him; it wouldn’t be fair. And well, I’m sure Yoongi knows, but he just doesn’t say it, he’ll just bring me treats and check in on me with a color every so often. I’m glad too, he lets me still be me and I don’t feel coddled like I was when it first happened; Yoongi must be so hurt, I have to apologize. I always tell him everything.”

Once more, Jungkook felt dejected, she told everyone but him, and it hurt, especially when she mentioned apologizing for all this, it wasn’t her fault and he wanted to hold her in his arms to let her know it would be okay, but it wasn’t his place.

“____, you have to worry about yourself only. Especially after this, you should-”

This was her time to interrupt, “Jungkook no. Don’t tell me what I should do. I can worry about my friends, I know what I did was selfish and I feel horrible, but you will not tell me what I can worry about. I hope you can understand that I’m not who you wanted me to be, but don’t patronize me, I’m still human.”

He held his head in shame at the things he said in anger, “Stop it. I shouldn’t have said that ____, I didn’t mean it, and I was just upset. It was wrong of me, I’ll let you rest.”

With that, he turned around and began to place his hand on the door handle when you sighed & spoke up, “Kookie?”

“Yes?”

“Come here.” Almost like his body was on autopilot, his hand dropped from the door handle and his legs moved toward her, “Closer Kookie, I’m not radioactive.”

He leaned over her figure, even in this terrible hospital light, she still glowed with beauty and warmth. She reached up to him the best she could and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek and a tight hug.

“I love you, Kookie.”

Those words felt like several aching blows to the stomach; ___ smelled of lilac and vanilla, her scent wafting together in his nostrils as their embrace tightened, and his tears began to flow freely, “I love you too. I’m so sorry.”

I can’t have her in the ways I thought, I wished it could have been me lying with her, making new memories, and giving her reasons to smile, but it never would be true; at least not in the true sense of my love for her. Our friendship will be nothing more than that and as I look at this broken mask,

I still want you.

a/n: don’t ask for sequels or updates, lemme know what you think!

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outworldxwasomi · 5 years ago

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Ritual Of Blood: Idi Mercy Finale

//Here’s the final part to the story, Make sure to read Pt 1 & 2 if you haven't done already. And special shout-out to @fiery-assassin for beta-reading it for me, Love you girlie. And Thanks to those who took the time to read it, much love to you all.

All it takes is one swipe across the throat, severe an artery causing blood to spray out like a geyser. As the victor stands tall, covered in the blood of his opponent who now lay on the ground beneath him, the last of his life fading out as he goes limp. Chuma walks over, kneels down to check for any signs of life as the screams of an outraged father could be heard over the cheers of the crowd.

“Nuka is the Victor.” Chuma announced, standing up to raise the winner’s arm. While the victor gets to hug his father, the other father had to pick up his now deceased son corpse and carry him off to the funeral fire. It’s a sad and vicious cycle that will never end as long as the Tarkatans continue following the old ways. Seeing those who were friends or enemies, step into the middle of the ring and fight to the death was a harsh reality.

Idi took it in stride, watching each fight with with a blank stare. Silently keeping track of went in and who was left in line. The last girl fight had already passed, Jabari sister Mudiwa won by ripping her opponent’s head off like the savage everyone expected her to be, just like her brother. The only ones left in line was Idi and three other boys, two more fights left and Idi would be stepping in that ring anytime now.

Baraka got up from his throne and walked toward the center of the ring, taking a look at the last four kombatants in line. After a minute of silence, Baraka makes a choice. “There's four of you left, all of you are at the top of your class. Personally I trained all of you so there is no doubt all of you are fit to be a true Tarkatan. Only one of you can prove that tonight.”

Those last words drew confused ‘what?’ from the boys and their guardians. All of them trying to understand what Baraka was saying. “It’s not often we a have free for all, the last one happened 357 years ago, won by Chuma himself. Tonight the four of you will step into this ring and fight, the winner will be the last one standing or breathing. May the True Tarkatan win.” Baraka went back to his throne, ignoring the protests of some tarks who were kin to the last four.

“Is he serious?” Idi couldn’t believe it, not only did he have to fight now. But he had to face three instead of the usual one on one fight. He looks over at the other boys, all of them wide eyed and lost for words.

“Come on Idi.” Benzi gave Idi a light shove, leading him towards the ring. The rest following suit, guardian’s walking their young tark kin to the center of the ring knowing it would be the last time they will see them alive. Once the boys stood in the center of the ring, they turned to their guardians. Two boys had their father and one had their aunt, having lost both parents in battle.

“You’re shaking Benzi.” Idi was quick to notice Benzi was shaking slightly, especially his hands that were currently gripping his shoulders. Idi examined his brother face, seeing a stray tear roll down his cheek and teeth. “You scared?”

“Damn right I'm scared, if I wasn’t then I'm not really living am I.” Benzi chuckled nervously. He glanced at the others then looks down at his brother, memories of when he first held him to his first training session flashed in his mind. He knew this day would come and he was confident that Idi would come out the winner but this was not part of the dream. To think Baraka would choose a free-for-all after centuries of one-on-ones. He wasn’t doubting his brother abilities but it didn’t stop the fear he had in his heart.

“Benzi, I’m going to be fine.” Idi reached up to pat Benzi right arm, comforting him even though he was the one about to put his life on the line. “Just don’t do anything crazy if anything happens to me, promise?”

“Promise you stay alive?”

“Of course.” Idi turns around to face the others. Benzi pats the top of his little brother head and walked off with the other guardians to stand behind the Kongozi seat. Idi took a step back, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. The other boys stood back, giving each other looks, sizing and figuring out their plan of attack. The tallest of the three was staring right at Idi than pointed in his direction, the other two glanced at him then at Idi, a look of recognition in their eyes. Idi felt his heart drop to his stomach as he realized what the others were planning to do, smart but cowardice.

“Scared Paavo?” Idi called out.

“Hell no.” Paavo snapped back despite his voice cracking.

“Kade, Hahn?” Idi motions to the other two boys who quickly shake their heads no. “I mean it’s okay to be scared, I be scared of me too.” He says with a nervous laugh. Even Chuma had to snicker at that comment.

“Alright boys, prepare yourselves.” Chuma looks to Baraka who gives the signal with his right hand while his other hand held goblet filled with wine. Chuma raised his left arm and extended his arm-blade. He quickly jumps back as Paavo rushed forward, blades extended as he charged at Idi.

Idi weaved to the right as Paavo swung a wide left, missing him completely. He growls and makes a downward strike, barely missing Idi right leg, his blade impaling the sand. Before he could pull back he was hit with a sharp kick to the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. Paavo stumbles back, gasping for breath, hands beating his chest as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. His gasps turned into a gurgled choke as Idi lunged at him, shoving his arm-blade right through his chest, piercing him right through the heart.

“Yes.” Benzi cheered then quickly goes quiet as the Tark beside him glared at him. “You have my condolences.”

Idi yanked his arm-blade out of Paavo chest and steps back, he wipes the blood from his blade and smears it across his chest. He looks up to see Kade and Hahn staring at him wide eyed. The two exchanged looks, making gestures at Idi. Hahn roared at Kade and tackled him, the two started to wrestle on the dirt ground, snapping teeth and clawing like wild animals. Idi was so fixated on watching the other two boys wrestle that he was unaware of Paavo, who was still alive despite a gaping hole in his chest.

“Ahh,” Idi felt a sharp pain in his left thigh, looking down to see Paavo biting on his calf. Idi fell backwards, hitting the ground butt first. He lifts his free leg and kicks Paavo right in the forehead, a loud crunch sound could be heard as Idi kicked right through Paavo skull. Two more hard kicks cracks Paavo head wide open, pieces of his brain spilling onto Idi foot and calf. Idi reached down to pull Paavo maw from his calf, hissing as some of his teeth were stuck deep in his flesh. Quickly getting back to his feet, Idi nudged Paavo side with his good leg, making sure the tark was dead, definitely dead.

Dropping down to one knee, Idi checked the damage to his calf. Bloody teeth marks with a few broken teeth left behind. Knowing that the teeth would cause in infection, Idi started to dig the teeth out of his leg. The sound of his brother yelling his name pulled him back to the world around him. Idi raised his head just in time to see Kade flying at him. Idi rolled out of the way to dodge, watching Kade hit the ground and roll a few times. Idi looks back to Hahn who threw something, hitting Idi right in the nose. Idi fell back, grabbing his nose which was no doubt broken. Whatever Hahn threw at him was hard, a rock or something close to it. Idi got his feet in a hurry and paused when he spotted Kade head on the ground, Hahn decapitated Kade and threw his head at him.

Oh shit

Idi turned to Hahn, posturing himself into an offensive stance. He could see the fear in Hahn’s eyes and if it’s one thing Idi has learned, nothing more dangerous than someone who was scared to die. They do anything to say alive and right now that’s exactly what was taking place. Hahn rushed forward, closing the distance between them in seconds. With arm-blades, Hahn came at Idi with a flurry of swipes, each one thrown with precision. Idi weaved most of the swipes but had to block the heavy strike with his own blades, causing sparks to fly. Since Hahn was the bigger fighter, all his blows were strong, each one sending Idi stumbling with each block.

Hahn snapped and jumped up, hitting Idi with a knee to the teeth. Idi flew back and catches himself before he hits the ground, doing a one hand backflip to get back to his feet. Idi comes at Hahn with an overhand swipe with his right arm-blade. His single blade collides with Hahn crossed block, breaking on impact. Idi makes a shocked yelp as he looks at his arm-blade which was now broken in half. Seeing the broken end on the ground beside him then back to Hahn who was preparing to strike, lunging at him with arms wide and blades ready to strike. Idi waited til Hahn got close, spinning to the right he lets his left arm swing freely with his spin. Idi hissed as he felt a stab in his shoulder, only for a brief second. Hahn lands on his feet and took two steps forward, he reached up to his neck which was now severed right to the adam's apple. His head fell over to the side then his entire body collapsed to the ground. Idi eyed Hahn, waiting for him to make anymore moves only to see him lay lifeless in his own pool of blood.

Chuma comes over and grabs Idi right arm, raising it up.”Idi is the Victor.” He declared. The crowd cheered and roared in excitement, surprised by the outcome. Baraka got up from his chair and walks into the ring to stand before Idi. He takes one look at the three dead boys on the ground then back to Idi.

“You are one of my best students. You were born runt like myself.. And today you proved you are a true tarkatan warrior, possibly better than me.” Baraka reached into his pants pocket and takes out a bone necklace with a yellow jewel at the center. Idi bowed his head, letting Baraka put the necklace around his neck. “Hongara Idi.” Baraka steps back and crossed his arms over his chest in a tarkatan salute, bowing. Idi returned the bow with his own salute.

Benzi comes over once Baraka walks away. More like ran over and picked Idi up by the mid section and hugged him. Idi hissed in pain but said nothing protest. “I'm so proud of you Idi.” Benzi says as he lets Idi go.

“Told you I promise to stay alive.” Idi laughed then looks down at the necklace hanging from his neck. Benzi noticed it, leaning in to take a closer look at it. “Baraka gave it to me.”

“Yeah, that belonged to your Great Grandfather, Idi the Feral.”

“Idi the Feral, wait im related to the first feral Tarkatan?”

“Yeah, he may have been feral but he was one of the legendary warrior tarkatans to ever live. And now you wear his necklace, that’s a high honor.” Benzi points at the Jewel. “I thought it was lost but here it is.”

“That’s nice.” Idi glanced back to the guardians carrying their deceased kin to the fire. Paavo father stops and looks back at Idi with scowl. “Maybe I should stay hidden til things cool down.”

“Don’t worry about him.” Benzi waved it off. The tarkatans know the rules and Paavo father would get a death sentence if he dare attack Idi at anytime. “Come one, let's get you cleaned up and ready for supper.”

“Benzi?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you carry me?”

Benzi blinked a few times than shrugs. He picks Idi up like he was a toddler, patting his little brother back as he rested his head on his shoulder. “You know I can’t keep carrying you like this.”

“You will for as long as you're strong enough to carry me.” Idi grumbled with laugh.

Mwisho

#Drabbles #Final pt of 3 #mwanji- Idi #Tw: violence #//Once again thanks to those who read it

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yukiwrites · 7 years ago

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Clumsily in Love

Thank you so much for commissioning me, @arod7293! I had so much fun writing for this pairing, I hope you’ll like it! ^v^)b

Summary: It took Felicia too long to catch up with her lady Corrin, but once she did, she was star-struck by her lady’s friend, Azura. Little by little, both of them start spending time together, their presences becoming more and more essential to each other with the passing of days...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

Part 1 - Part 2

For almost twenty days, Felicia had been frantically looking for her Lady Corrin. She searched high and low; from the corners of the Bottomless Canyon to the sides of the hoshidan territory.

She had managed to stay hidden to look for her lady at a few villages, though she never did. Felicia knew Corrin hadn't been found by the nohrians, so she had to be in Hoshido.

What the maid didn't expect, however, was to find her lady at the very center of a nohrian-hoshidan confrontation. Her heart leapt with joy from finally seeing Corrin safe and sound, her legs running to the princess without thinking.

"Phew! I made it in time, Lady Corrin! I'm so glad you're safe!" She panted, bending over to catch her breath.

Startled, Corrin turns around to see her dear friend and maid. By the princess’ side, a beautiful blue haired woman looked over with curiosity. "Felicia?! What are you doing here?" Corrin blurted out.

Felicia raised her head, puffing her cheeks. "That's a fine greeting! I looked all over for-" her eyes trailed to the woman beside Corrin, losing her words in the process. She had gorgeous golden eyes that contrasted with her light blue hair -- her entire being looked like as though taken from a painting of the morning sky: her eyes at the center, shining down like the sun. "For... for you, Lady Corrin!" The maid stuttered, looking back to her lady. "I-I don't really know what's going on, but you can count on me to help!"

Both Corrin and the beautiful woman sighed in relief, their shoulders sagging. For some reason, Felicia felt like smiling after seeing that woman's relieved expression. "Thank you, Felicia," the dragon princess said, brandishing her weapon. "I'm sorry to drag you into this, but no one here but Azura is our ally for the moment."

"Awawa? We're fighting both armies?!" Felicia brought both hands to her face in surprise, but soon readied herself for battle. "Oh, well, I suppose it doesn't matter who we fight. I'll stand by you, milady!"

The woman named Azura nodded, clearly pleased. "Thank you so much for the vote of confidence... Felicia, was it?"

"Yes, um, Azura!" Felicia stuttered, feeling nervous for some reason. Even her voice was pretty!

Azura smiled faintly, enjoying how spirited and pure-hearted Felicia seemed to be. "Well, then, Felicia... We'll need to escape for now. Corrin and I were planning how to disrupt both forces when you arrived."

The maid masterfully twirled the knives on her hands, taking her battle stance. "Just point me the right way!"

Once again did Azura smile, also positioning herself for battle. "Good. Corrin, let us hurry." She nodded to the dragon princess, who concurred.

"Right. Let's take down both of their forward commanders to disrupt their line of command long enough for us to escape." Corrin said, studying the battlefield from her standpoint. She let out a nervous laugh before issuing the orders. "Now that my army's double in size, we won't need to worry!"

Felicia and Azura exchanged glances, smiling to each other before nodding. "Lead the way, Lady Corrin!"

Honestly, as quick as the battle went, Felicia couldn't help but steal glances at their newest companion, Azura. She fought with grace; swinging her lance overhead as though it was light as a feather. Her mesmerizing singing also managed to bring back the fighting spirit in whoever heard it, making the maid even more eager to keep listening to it -- to keep doing her best so she could hear it more and more.

Azura, on the other hand, felt oddly safe with Felicia guarding her back. The maid had a happy-go-lucky attitude and an easy smile, but her entire demeanor changed during battle, felling the enemies whenever necessary -- or freezing them when killing wasn't needed. The princess had heard about the nohrian elemental tribe, but to witness its might first-hand was something else entirely. Felicia had entire command of icicle daggers and freezing winds, turning the tide in their favor right after they had started to wonder how they would get out of that pinch.

Corrin once again tried to make her elder siblings see reason, but they were irreductible, branding her as a traitor in the heat of the moment. Azura tugged her friend's arm. "Let us go, Corrin; we can convince them once they've calmed down. You too, Felicia." She also reached out the maid, who inadvertently took her hand.

"Right! Lead the way, Azura!"

The blue-haired princess led them towards the bottomless canyon, claiming that there would be a place where they could hide... on the other side of the canyon. Felicia held both hands over her chest. "We'll have to jump in there?! Isn't that suicide?"

Azura effortlessly crossed the protection rope, "I will jump in first to ensure you both that it's safe. I ask only that you trust me on this."

Corrin and Felicia exchanged glances before the princess bespoke. "Of course I believe you, Azura. Lead the way." She said, also crossing the rope, facing the canyon.

Felicia gulped and followed, "a-alright then, here goes..." She stuttered, only jumping after both princesses did so, squeezing her eyes shut, too nervous to watch herself falling to her death.

"Felicia? Are you alright?" She heard a melodious voice call her not too long after the vertigo had passed, feeling her body lying down. Once she opened her eyes, they met the golden of Azura's, momentarily losing her words.

She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, not knowing what to say. They were indeed on the other side of the canyon; in a world with a sky so blue it rivaled Azura's hair, the air around them thick with a strange but not unwelcome essence, as though they were walking in a dream. Felicia found her throat dry, needing to gulp more than once to find her words. "A-Azura? Did we make it?" She meant to sit up, flustered for having the other woman's face so close to her.

Azura sat over her legs, giving Felicia her space, nodding slightly. "Yes. I'm afraid we must wake Corrin quickly, lest they find us here."

The maid widened her eyes, clutching one hand over her heart. "Um, t-they? I thought this was a safe place?"

"... Not entirely," Azura looked away. "We are safe from the nohrians and hoshidans, yes, however..."

"Oh, boy." Felicia pinched her own cheek. "Well, it'll only mean more fighting, right?" She got up, extending one hand to Azura. "C'mon, I'll go wake Lady Corrin up so we can go!"

Surprised by how well Felicia was taking everything, Azura's expression softened as she took the maid's hand, their warmth and eyes lingering on each other for a few moments. For one reason or another, they were both glad they were on the same side during that journey, a tingling feeling scratching their hearts as they thought about spending more time together.

Once Felicia discovered that Azura was indeed a princess, she apologized profusely for the confusion and over-familiarity, promptly calling Azura by her proper title from then on, despite the princess' protests.

"Please, Felicia, there truly is no need for formalities. I do not mind being called by my given name." Azura would say from time to time, enjoying how frantic and honest Felicia was regarding that subject, never getting tired of her reactions.

"That won't do, Lady Azura! As a princess, you deserve to be treated with the proper respect! It was very rude of me to call you by your name without knowing your title..." She would pout adorably, making Azura feel like teasing more and more each time.

"Hmm, then what about you only call me by my name when it's just the two of us? I do see you as an ally rather than servant, after all."

For some reason, Felicia felt her cheeks redden with the statement, deeply flattered, happy and embarrassed at the same time. Azura's cheeks also reddened in response, wondering what she had said to bring out that kind of reaction.

Ahh, even the flush over her cheeks was beautiful! Felicia couldn't get enough of looking at her. "T-then... as allies, I wonder if I could ask..." She shook her head. "No, no, that's too bold; I'm sorry I mentioned!"

"Wait, Felicia!" Azura reached out, but the maid quickly turned back and ran. The princess had to put one hand over her beating heart to calm herself down, feeling her chest warm.

It was as though everywhere Azura went, her eyes looked for Felicia -- her eagerness to help, her battle prowers, earnest heart, unfaltering eyes and adorable pout all drove Azura to her. She was surprised when she found out how clumsy Felicia was out of battle in contrast to her collected mastery of knives and shurikens during a fight, which actually made her even more adorable.

Felicia somehow never shook away the first impression she had had of Azura -- of how utterly gorgeous she was. They were getting more and more allies with the passing of the weeks, but no one quite matched Azura in beauty, in Felicia's eyes. She found herself observing the princess whenever her duties allowed, usually finding her by herself, as she had always preferred. It only made Felicia even more intent on approaching, simply to bask in that gracious presence.

Inside the Astral Realm, during one of her secret tray-carrying practices, Felicia heard that unmistakingly melodious voice, her feet inadvertently taking her towards it. She had to delve into a sparse forest, but soon found herself by a lake, in front of which Azura practiced her singing and dancing. Her movements flowed in perfect rhythm, like waves in a day of calm winds, taking Felicia's breath away.

As she turned, Azura took notice of someone watching her and stopped. Realizing who it was, she smiled as her shoulders sagged. "Felicia? What are you doing here?" She panted, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

"As I thought, if it's her..." Felicia mumbled, looking down as Azura approached. "Um! Lady Azura!" She raised her head, taking small steps towards the princess. "Will you teach me?!"

Surprised with the sudden approach, Azura widened her eyes as Felicia's eager ones stared into hers. The maid hadn't noticed how she had stepped into Azura's personal space, but the princess strangely didn't mind. On the contrary, she felt that she would actually like if it were to happen more often. "Teach you what, Felicia?" She tilted her head to the side.

Felicia took Azura's hands, too eager to think about decorum. "Please teach me how to move with grace! I'm sure that if I learn from you, I can finally be good at my job! I won't trip and I'll be able to serve Lady Corrin outside battle and I’ll match with yo- Um, and I'll be able to learn from the best-uh..." She stumbled with her words, not understanding why she kept complimenting the princess.

Azura snorted, taking one finger to her lips to hide a soft laugh. "Heehee, you're indeed eager, are you not?" She giggled, squeezing Felicia's hand which lingered in hers. "I don't know about teaching you how to 'graceful', but if you're asking for a dance, well..."

Felicia blinked, her heart suddenly racing as she finally realized how close they were. "Um! I-I'm sorry! That didn't make any sense, did it..." She scratched her head, embarrassed, not knowing where to look.

Azura placed her free hand over Felicia's, making the maid look at her. "There's no need to apologize, Felicia. It would be my pleasure to teach you, on one condition."

The maid perked up. "A-anything, Lady Azura!"

"... Please, call me only by my name when it's just the two of us." She smiled softly, forbidding her hand to caress Felicia's cheek as it wanted to. "I don't want there to be any barriers between us, least of all formal ones."

Once again did Felicia blush profusely, not being able to avert her eyes from Azura's. "I... I couldn't...." She mumbled, then pressed her lips into a thin line. "O-okay, then... A-Azura."

The princess' smile widened. "Mhm. Thank you, Felicia." She took a step back, pulling the maid to her, twirling in a fluid movement. "Shall we get started, then?"

"Awawa!" Felicia almost tripped, landing safely on Azura's chest, promptly blushing even harder than before. "Y-yes! Thank you, A-Azura!"

"It will be my pleasure, Felicia." She giggled. Never had she felt like she belonged more than when Felicia smiled towards her and praised her skills. During her whole life, the princess felt ostracized -- sure, she had been treated with care by the hoshidan people after suffering in nohrian hands, but she never truly felt at home.

Even there, at the realm in-between, Azura felt that she could be herself as long as she was by Felicia's side. She could laugh at the maid's blunders as well as at the adorable pout she would make right after, which came with a scolding that said how it was awful of her to laugh at that! Ah, but she couldn't help to! It was the first time she felt like that, and it was so wonderfully peaceful.

Their dance lessons always ended in Felicia either tripping over her own legs or Azura's, making them fall atop of each other. But it was strange -- Azura never felt the pain of hitting her knees on the ground; only the thrill of falling and gripping onto Felicia's clothes, or the joy of hearing Felicia's awkward laugh.

Everything had been so heartwarming throughout their journey, Azura felt like she could ride in that happiness high forever.

However, as though fate laughed at Azura's fickle happiness, it threw something in their way, something that would take a long time to heal: The mage that had so angrily welcomed them in Valla following Scarlet's death revealed herself to be no one other than Arete, Azura's mother and fallen queen of Nohr.

Upon the realization, all eyes faced the princess, filled with compassion and pity. "Are you alright, Azura? Maybe we can find a way to change her back..." Corrin touched her friend's shoulder.

Azura flinched, denying Corrin's hand, taking a step forward. "I am alright. That wasn't my mother -- a ghost without memories of her is only a puppet bearing her face." Looking down, the princess kept walking. "Let us go; we shan't linger here for too long."

The siblings exchanged awkward glances, not knowing how to comfort her. Felicia brought both hands to her chest, an uneasy feeling gripping her heart with such strength it took her breath away.

She didn't want Azura to feel sad; she only wanted to see her laughing like she always did during their lessons. Finally she had felt that they were in good terms -- they even held hands while watching the stars not two nights ago! -- so all the more reason the maid couldn't help but feel for her close friend.

Felicia knew how much Azura prized her alone time, but... but if she were in the same situation, she would want a shoulder to cry on, or at least a friendly ear to listen to her.

Or a warm hand to remind her that she wasn't alone. "Um, Azura? Are you there?" Felicia asked before even popping her head out of the tree she was hiding behind. Somehow, she knew that Azura wouldn't be in her tent, so she went straight to the nearby lake, the moonlight lighting her steps.

"... I'm here, Felicia." Azura replied after a moment of silence, contemplating how bittersweetly happy she felt simply by hearing the maid's voice, clutching her heart with one hand.

"Um... Is it alright if I stay with you?" Felicia asked, stepping away from the woods towards the water, though still maintaining a distance should Azura deny her.

Such denial never crossed the princess' head. Without looking back, she opened her hand, silently asking for Felicia's warmth. The maid felt her eyes burn with tears, feeling Azura's pain with that simple gesture, quickly throwing herself on her; not holding her hand, but giving her a bear hug from behind.

"It's gonna be okay, Azura! I'll... I'll be here for you, no matter what happens!" She tried to reassure, not wanting to give Azura false hopes of seeing her mother again, but wanting to support her in any way she could.

Azura placed both hands over Felicia's arms which were around her shoulders, leaning her head on the maid's. "Thank you, Felicia. Would you mind staying like this for a bit longer?"

Felicia squeezed the hug, digging her head in the space between Azura's neck and shoulder. "... Of course not." She whispered, feeling a lump blocking her words from leaving her throat. No matter what would happen, she would never let go of that woman whose presence slowly but surely became as important to her as the air she breathed.

Seeing her suffer like that brought such agony to Felicia's heart she couldn't help but quietly sob, crying the tears Azura couldn't bring herself to shed.

The princess felt an odd warmth in her heart simply by being with Felicia, her worries melting away with the maid's tears, as though they were her own. She grasped onto Felicia's arms, closing her eyes so as to enjoy her smell of freshly made tea and hand soap. So that was what they called 'peace, in the least place you'd expect to find it'.

Of course, over the course of the next few days, the agony would only widen as they were forced to go against Arete time and again, making Azura's conviction waver after every single encounter.

And every single night Felicia would hug her again, reassuring her that the next day would surely be a better one. Azura leaned on Felicia to the point that she herself felt scared -- losing those heartwarming moments with her was more frightening than going against the Forgotten God.

On the morning Azura had decided that she would sort out her feelings, their party had reached a thick forest with large trees and hidden enemies -- all of them commanded by none other than Arete.

With Felicia by her side, Azura opened a way with the help of nearby Dragon Veins straight to her mother's ghost.

"Are you okay, Azura?" Felicia asked as they approached the blue-haired mage, the former queen’s image fluttering as though it was a reflection over a clear body of water. The princess squeezed her lance, looking at Felicia for reassurance.

"I will be, if you're with me, Felicia." She nodded, her expression serious. Felicia once again put herself on her battle stance.

"Then you'll be okay forever!" She said as cheerfully as she could, her eyes focused on the enemies around them.

Azura felt an unimaginable power seeping through Felicia's words, as though they broke away all the darkness that's been consuming Azura's every single day. Even the pendant's curse felt like a flimsy insult in comparison to the strength she felt. Together, they fought and defeated Arete, the mage's phantasmagorical presence somehow disappearing to reveal a woman of flesh and blood for a few moments before fading away.

"Oh, Azura... You've grown so much..." The woman said, looking at her daughter, not really seeing what she was touching.

Felicia brought both hands to cover her mouth in emotion, her eyes focused on Azura. The princess' eyes welled up with tears, her lips slightly trembling.

"Mother... at last you remember me. I've missed you so much..." She touched Arete's face, her hand going through it, as though she was touching water. Her heart felt like breaking.

She had been ready to defeat a puppet shaped like her mother, but upon dealing the final blow on her, Arete seemed to have finally unlocked her memories... making Azura feel terrible for even entertaining the thought of hurting her mother.

Long after the ghost disappeared did Azura linger there, kneeling where Arete laid before, trying with everything she had to keep her emotions in check. Corrin crouched down to touch her friend's shoulder, who finally snapped out of it, realizing she almost cried in front of everyone.

"Will you be okay?" Corrin asked as Azura lifted her moist eyes in her general direction.

Azura looked at Felicia, who stood behind Corrin, and once again looked down, already wanting to jump onto her arms and cry to her heart's content. "... I will be." She said finally, getting up without raising her head. "Let us go; if we linger here, we might encounter more enemies."

Corrin exchanged glanced with her siblings, her heart heavy. She felt a tender and worried touch on her arm as she looked down in distress, feeling powerless. "We should leave her be for now." Her beloved said in a low voice, only for her to hear.

She felt so unworthy of being Azura's friend. There she was, finding happiness with Rhajat, the woman of her life, while Azura suffered through all of that alone. The dragon princess placed one hand over her wife's. "You're right. C'mon, let's get back to the AR." She turned around, "Felicia- huh? I thought she was right behind me..."

Rhajat linked arms with Corrin, nothing escaping her watchful eye. "She ran after Azura right away, didn't you see?"

"Did she? Hmm... They were getting along well lately, after all... That's great; I hope Azura finds a good friend in Felicia."

Rhajat chuckled. "MORE than a friend, for the looks of it, fufufu..."

Felicia ran towards the lake she and Azura had already started calling as 'their place', knowing she would find the princess there. However, this time, Azura wasn't facing the lake -- she was waiting for Felicia to come so she could throw herself into her open arms.

"Oh, Felicia...!" Azura openly sobbed by the maid's chest, a bleeding wound hurting her heart.

"I'm so sorry, Azura... I'm so sorry..." Felicia sniffled, squeezing the princess with everything she had, digging her face on the abundant blue hair. "I c-can't imagine what you're feeling, b-but please let me stay with you." She stuttered between sobs, wanting to be the princess' strength.

Azura lifted her tear-stained face to look in Felicia's equally teary mien. "Please, don't ever leave me, dear Felicia...! I do not think I could bear to lose you, as well...!" She took a deep breath before stealing a kiss, pressing her trembling lips by her beloved's surprised ones.

"Mmpph!" Felicia widened her eyes, scaring her tears away. "A-Azura...!" She pulled away, surprised.

"F-forgive me, I wasn't thinking..." Realizing what she had done, Azura turned her face away, not wanting to be hated by Felicia of all people. However, the maid held her by the arms, squeezing her eyes so as to kiss her again.

They banged their foreheads instead, a loud bonking sound echoing through the woods. "Owowow..." Felicia massaged her forehead. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I want to do it again- Aww how come I'm clumsy even at an important moment like this?!"

"Heehee, haha!" Azura giggled, the tears still fresh over her face, but her burden lifted a tiny bit. "I really do love you, dear Felicia." She blurted out, still massaging her forehead with both hands. "Will you let me do it again? Properly this time?"

Felicia straightened her back, almost saluting, her forehead bright red from the impact. "O-of course I will! I... I also love you, Azura..." The red spread to her face and ears, her adorable lips trembling in embarrassment. "I have for so long already, but you're a princess and-- mmph!"

Once again did Azura steal a kiss, but more tenderly this time. She pressed their lips together, placing locks of Felicia's hair behind her ears at the same time. "Shh, don't finish that sentence." She whispered softly, loving how sweet Felicia's lips tasted. "Instead, wouldn't you say it to me again? How you love me?"

"A-always!" Felicia wrapped both arms around Azura's waist, making their noses touch. "I love you, Azura! And I always will!"

Once again Azura giggled, the wound in her heart taking its first steps to healing, now with Felicia by her side. "Always? I'll need to live a long life, then."

Felicia smiled, then laughed, twirling her beloved around before certainly tripping, making them roll down the grass. They laughed in one another's arms, not minding all the twigs they would need to fish out of each other's hairs later.

Together they would be stronger than they were alone -- from then on for the rest of their lives.

Finally Azura had found the strength to live and to fight off the curse, singing with everything she had during the upcoming battles. Since she had always been a low-profile person, not many realized their relationship -- stolen glances, sneaking handholds and skinship were the only signs they inadvertently showed, the happiness in their eyes whenever they met the most prominent one.

The final battle had the atmosphere of the end of the world -- Anankos sucking the life of Valla as well as his humongous dragon form brought fear to everyone's hearts. But Felicia and Azura were oddly calm; if they were together, they would be able to fight against anything and anyone.

They couldn't help but be swept along the happy atmosphere once Corrin dealt the final blow to the Forgotten God, everyone's shoulders sagging in relief as they all hugged and kissed their loved ones. Felicia and Azura were holding hands at the time and simply looked at each other, feeling like they belonged.

"Will you marry me, dear Felicia?" Azura asked as she wrapped her arms around Felicia's neck. The maid reciprocated the hug on her princess' waist, her cheeks flushing with a shy smile.

"Of course I will, Azura..." She whispered as they leaned in for a kiss, unaware of their surroundings.

Rhajat snapped her fingers, "hah, see, I told you." She stole a kiss from her own wife, enjoying how utterly surprised and clueless Corrin was.

"I had no idea!" She said in between kisses, her eyes glued at how long and passionate Felicia and Azura's kiss was.

The pair would have a bit of explaining to do after they returned to their own surroundings, but for that single moment they were the only people in the whole world; a world only for Felicia and Azura to enjoy each other's warmths. They would worry about the rest later, as long as they were together.

#feliciazura #felicia #azura #fire emblem fates #corhajat #Yuki's Commissions #my writings #kamui

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hxh-secretsanta-2017 · 7 years ago

Text

All Work's Play

To: @multiple-non-alcoholic-dogs From: @unnoticed-and-necesssary Happy Holidays! I adored the prompt you sent. Writing Gon and Killua being “fun and goofy best friends” is always super enjoyable. I like to think they always have the most fun when they’re together, even when they’re supposed to be working a job. Hope you enjoy! ————-

When they pause to regain their bearings, Gon shrugs out of his hooded jacket. Relief comes as soon as it’s off. Cool air finds bared arms, dropping the over-heated temperature of his skin, and Gon sighs in satisfaction as he ties the sleeves of the jacket around his waist. It’s not that it’s warm out, but the long hike up through the mountains had been more than enough to get Gon’s blood pumping. Even Killua, who is undoubtedly more cool-natured than Gon, has pushed long sleeves up to his elbows while he surveys the map.

Gon steps up beside him, taking in the view. The area around the mountains is heavily wooded – mostly with tall, strong evergreens. Stretched out below the high edge they stand on is a sea of deep emerald, made a little hazy by a thin fog hanging around the treetops. Gon breathes in deep the sharp scent of pine needles and the brisk, damp air. There’s running water somewhere, too, that he can hear – some nearby brook or creek.

“It’s beautiful up here,” he comments.

He hears Killua make a small, acknowledging hum and looks over in time to see his partner lift his gaze from the map. Lips curl into a small smile and then blue eyes glance over towards him.

“It is,” Killua agrees before his eyes drop back down.

“Are we close, you think?” Gon asks, leaning in to glance at the map, then back up at the land before them.

“Mmm… We should be. I think the town is somewhere…”

Killua trails off, trying to pinpoint a location. Gon, eyes on the trees ahead of them, takes another deep breath in. This time, under the pine needles and the various scents coming off of his boyfriend and their supplies, Gon can smell something else – something heavier, warmer.

Smoke, he realizes, just as he spies a long thin plume of it in the distance, dancing up from the trees like a ribbon in the wind. “There,” Gon says, and points.

Killua looks up and squints at the distant point Gon indicates, taking a moment longer to find the tell-tale smoke wafting up through the fog. Killua clicks his tongue. “Of course you’d pick up on that. We should take you to an eye doctor or something, just to see them scratch their heads at your unnatural eyesight.” Killua drops one side of the map to arch his hand dramatically through the air, pitching his voice in an imitation of showman making a pitch for his next act, “Gon Freecss, the optic wonder! World renowned hunter with incredible 200/20 vision.”

Gon’s lips tug in a frown and he nudges Killua with an elbow to get him to stop. All it earns Gon is barely-suppressed laughter. “Ha-ha,” Gon intones. “Very funny. Maybe this whole hunter thing isn’t the career for you, Killua. Have you considered stand up?”

Killua hums, looking thoughtful as he refolds the map. “Maybe I should. It’d be really marketable, don’t you think?” His lips spread in a smile. “Ex-assassin Killua Zoldyck turned comedian? I’d really… knock ‘em dead, huh?”

Killua leans in to elbow him playfully while Gon groans at his horrible pun. “Yeah, on second thought, don’t quit your day job, Killua.” Killua huffs and slaps Gon’s shoulder with the folded map, which gets him more laughter than his poor attempt at a joke did. “And just so you know, I smelled the smoke before I saw it, so…”

Killua scoffs, moving to put the map away again. He turns Gon by his shoulder so he can tuck it back into Gon’s pack. “Yeah, and that’s so much better!”

Gon hears a zipper after Killua has put it away, then Killua’s hand at his shoulder again, spinning him. Gon doesn’t notice Killua’s other hand until it’s right in front of his face, and the next thing he knows-

“AH! What-”

-his nose is caught. Killua pinches it between the bend of his index finger and the pad of this thumb, and doesn’t seem ready to release him, even as Gon complains and protests.

“Wah! Killuaaa!” Gon cries as Killua shakes his head around by the grip his has on his nose, not exactly gentle. “Stooop!” He whines, nasally.

Killua laughs and lets go. “You’ve got a super sniffer to match your super eyeballs. What else is new? You’re a weirdo, Gon Freecss.”

Gon huffs and rubs his sore nose. “You’re one to talk,” Gon counters, moving in close to shove Killua, unable to help smiling when he’s shoved back. “You can shoot out electricity out of your hands and- and- … consume a concerning amount of sweets in one sitting.”

“That is a gross oversimplification of how my nen works,” Killua says, reaching again, and he moves too quickly for Gon to dodge. It’s his ear that’s punished his time – pinched and pulled roughly. He’s grinning widely – that grin that normally makes Gon’s heart thump excitedly. Now, though, he’s too concerned with freeing his ear from Killua’s death-grip.

Gon reaches to skitter his fingers over Killua’s side, which he knows is ticklish under the right touch, and has the satisfaction of watching Killua jump. His ear is released. It’s Gon’s turn to grin as he watches Killua put enough distance between them that mischievous hands can’t easily reach him.

“And it doesn’t make me weird,” Killua goes on. “I think the identifiers you’re looking for are 'cool’ and 'talented’.”

Gon huffs, trying to seem off-put, but he can’t stop smiling. Nor does he contradict Killua. Killua is both of those things, of course – even if he’s not sure that eating an entire case of choco-robos in just a few hours counts as a talent. “Well, if I’m weird, what does that say about you?” Gon challenges, crossing his arms. “You’re dating me.”

Killua chuckles. “Mmm, well…” He lifts his gaze skywards and taps his chin with his finger, feigning thoughtfulness. Gon, seeing an opportunity, edges in closer. “Everyone has their flaws, and apparently mine is my questionable taste in m- ahh, Gaahhn!”

“You deserve this!” Gon replies, mercilessly pinching and tugging at both of Killua’s cheeks.

Moaning his complaint, Killua reaches to capture Gon’s wrists in a powerful grip, pulling to try to get Gon to free him. Gon just laughs because Killua pulling his hands makes him pull Killua’s cheeks more – something Killua only seems to realize once he’s given Gon’s wrists a hard yank. But then Killua’s hand diverts, reaching for his nose again. Gon’s prepared, though. The moment fingers close around his nose, Gon’s mouth falls open, tongue stretching out.

“Uuugh!” Killua yanks saliva-covered hand back.

“Oof!” Pain blossoms over Gon’s ribs as a fist makes contact, pushing the breath out of him. Killua had held back – Gon knows he can punch harder. But it still makes him loosen his hold on Killua’s cheeks enough to give the other an opening.

He tries to duck, to step back, to push reaching hands away from him, but that only results in a brief tussle before Killua’s arm is hooked around his neck. Gon is pulled in roughly against Killua’s side, pinned while knuckles rub furiously against his scalp. Gon struggles in Killua’s hold, trying to pull his head free, slapping at whatever part of Killua he can reach. “No, noOOoo!” He cries.

“You can’t best me, Gon!” Killua calls back, triumphant and laughing once more. In a moment of mercy, he lifts his knuckles away from Gon’s head and instead settles for ruffling his hair. His arm keeps Gon pinned, though, and he tugs him as if he means to begin walking away with Gon still under his arm. “C'mon. It’s getting late, and I want to make it out to that town by nightfall. Maybe we can find a real bed to sleep in.”

Gon plants his feet and pushes with both hands on the arm around his neck, finally succeeding in pulling himself free. He stumbles a few steps back, thrown slightly off balance for a moment. Soon enough, though, he finds his feet. Ignoring Killua’s laughter, Gon grumbles and runs fingers through his hair to fix the mess Killua has made of it. “You’re so damn cocky,” Gon accuses, pouting.

When he looks up, Killua has a shit eating grin on his face and arms folded behind his head in a easy, confident stance. “I just know how good I am, is all.”

Gon’s heart is beating hard from their rough-housing, adrenaline making his limbs itch for something, some sort of outlet. And when Killua looks at him with that stupid, smug, handsome face of his, Gon can’t help but want to prove him wrong. To beat him at something, anything – rub it in his face, make Killua be impressed with him for once.

“Let’s race!” Gon blurts.

Killua drops his arms. “What?” He looks at Gon with furrowed eyebrows, like he can’t possibly be suggesting what Killua thinks he is.

“Let’s race,” Gon repeats, pointing back out over the trees in the direction of town. “Let’s race to town!”

Killua’s expression melts from confusion into amused disbelief. His eyebrows slope and his nose wrinkles. His lips twitch like he’s trying not to smile, pressed into a firm line that eventually gives as Killua makes a raspberry sound. “Pfft! Are you kidding me Gon?” Gon feels a heat bubbling inside him. What’s so funny? Why isn’t Killua taking him seriously? “Hahaha, you can’t beat me in a race!”

Gon takes a breath, opens his mouth to protest-

And the the ridiculousness of it all smacks him right in the face. Oh… right. Killua has …

“Of all the things to- Have you really forgotten I can do more than just 'shoot electricity out of my hands’?”

… super speed.

Gon’s shoulders slump. Heat of a different kind creeps up his neck and tints his face. The build of restless energy inside of him, almost as if sensing its own pointlessness, fizzles out. Killua’s grinning at him, snickering, those blue cat-like eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I didn’t forget!” Gon says, frowning, feeling his lower lip jut out in what he imagines looks like a pout. He doesn’t care, though. He feels like pouting, now. So what if he’s too old for such an immature display? “You could… Just not use your nen?” He suggests, part of him still tentatively hoping.

Killua scoffs. “What’s the point in racing if I’m not going all out?”

Gon lets his head hang, grumbling. But Killua’s right. It wouldn’t be as fun. Gon kicks at the ground in a childish show of disappointment. “Yeah… I guess…”

A hand drops to his shoulder. He looks up to see Killua smiling gently at him, blue eyes still glimmering in a way manages to make Gon’s heart skip a beat. “Sorry, man.”

Gon heaves sign out through his nose and straightens up, hands reaching to grip the straps of his backpack. “It’s okay. Anyway, like you said. We should get going.”

Gon shifts, but Killua doesn’t move. He’s looking out over the trees, and before Gon can pull away from him he squeezes Gon’s shoulder. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Their eyes meet, and Killua’s smiling wider than before. “How about I race us both down?”

“…Huh?”

Killua’s got both hands on his shoulders now. “I’ll race us both down! I’ll carry you, and use God Speed to run us both down. It’ll be fun!”

Gon blinks, taking a moment to catch up with what Killua’s saying. “Really?” Gon manages. “You wanna … carry me down?”

Killua rolls his shoulders in a shrug. “We’ll get there faster. Alluka used to love it when I’d run around with her. Bet you will, too. Besides, I’m kinda itching to run now.”

Gon remembers that, of course. More than once when he’d been meeting up with the siblings Killua had shown up in a glow of blue electricity, carrying his giggling sister in his arms. Admittedly, he had been curious about what that felt like, had even thought before he’d like to try it. He’s just never had the opportunity to suggest. And now – Killua’s the one suggesting it.

Excitement builds in his chest – a warm, bubbly thing.

“Well, yeah… Sure,” Gon says, calmer than how he feels. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Killua asks, grinning an infectious grin that soon finds its way to Gon’s lips, too.

“Yeah!” Gon says. “So, you wanna carry me on your back or something?” Just as he’s saying that, though, Gon realizes that won’t work. Killua has his own pack, after all.

“Nah,” Killua responds. He must have another idea, because he’s shifting to stand at Gon’s side. “Here, hold my neck,” he instructs.

Without further warning, Gon’s feet are swept out from under him.

Gon gasps, arms looping around Killua’s neck just in time to catch himself from falling. “A little more warning next time, Killua!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Killua says, adjusting his hold slightly. He’s wormed one arm under Gon’s pack to hold him just below the shoulders, the other under Gon’s knees.

It happens in the time it would take to blink.

One moment, Killua is standing there, holding him, and Gon just has time to think he feels a shift in the air, the hair on his arms and the back of his neck standing on end. Then, before he can inspect that feeling further, there’s a bright white flash that seems to come from the whole of Killua. Gon closes his eyes against it, and when he looks up again Killua is all aglow.

Gon feels like there’s a buzz that’s found it’s way deep down into his bones. His skin feels alive in a way it hadn’t moments before – more so wherever Killua is touching him. His fingers curl in tight against the back of Killua’s neck. Killua is grinning at him, and Gon belatedly realizes that he’d gasped when Killua activated his nen. He couldn’t help it! It feels- weird everywhere.

“You good?” Killua asks, seeming pretty satisfied with himself – as if he can hear the way Gon’s heart flutters in his chest as he looks up at Killua.

Not that that means anything, really. His heart somersaulting like a gymnast has nothing to do with how much bluer Killua’s eyes suddenly are or how the glow of his nen makes him look like something otherworldly. It has nothing to do with how much Gon finds himself wanting to run his fingers through Killua’s electrified hair or how he suddenly can’t stop wondering if Killua’s lips would somehow taste different when he’s like this. If his heart is beating funny it’s just that the electricity is making him feel weird and twitchy. It’s just that he’s excited for Killua to start running. At least, that’s what Gon will tell his boyfriend if he starts to tease him, which he very well might judging by the sparkle in his eye that has nothing to do with the electricity he’s brought to life all around them.

“Yeah,” Gon answers. “Just… feels different.” Gon shifts in Killua’s arms, suddenly feeling like his has to move.

“You’ll get used to it,” Killua tells him, chuckling. “Okay, hold tight now.”

The first step Killua takes steals Gon’s breath. Just one movement, one push, and they’re sailing through the air. Gon can’t process it all at once, becomes aware bit by bit of the world around him again.

There’s the tingly, itching feeling all over his skin-

The vibration of his bones-

Wind roaring in his ears as it rushes by-

The pressure in his chest telling him to breathe, like all of the air in his lungs has been left back where they were standing moments ago – a spot, Gon realizes as he looks back over Killua’s shoulder, that seems incredibly small in the distance now.

How can they have come so far already? Gon’s mind is a haze, and maybe all his thoughts got left behind too.

Beyond the wind, there’s Killua’s laughter. Killua’s laughing at him again. Does he look funny? Did he hear Gon go breathless? Gon doesn’t know, and can’t ask besides. It’s hard to be angry about Killua having a laugh at his expense when the world is a dizzying blur all around them and Gon still hasn’t found a moment to catch his breath. It’s like the shock when you dive into the ocean early in the morning and it’s all prickling cold because the sun hasn’t warmed anything yet, Gon thinks. Your lungs scream for air almost instantly, but you have to break surface before you open your mouth and try to breathe.

Gon blinks, watching the dark shapes of trees – they must be trees, anyway – whip by too fast for his eyes to land on properly. When he looks forward, the world is coming at them so fast – unnaturally fast. This must be what it would be like to be strapped to the front of a train going full speed. No – something faster. The front of a jet plane. Some instinctual part of his mind shrinks away from the sight, from the experience, sensing the potential danger, like some inevitable crash. Looking forward for too long makes his eyes water, makes him squint, and makes his head all the more dizzy, so Gon turns his face.

Without realizing, Gon finds his arms have wound their way around Killua’s neck more snugly. His heart beats a wild tempo in his chest, pulse throbbing in his ears. Killua makes a sharp turn, and then another, and Gon realizes he’s taking them on a winding path down the mountain, the trees getting thicker as they go. Gon takes a shuddering breath in, finally. Just as he feels like he’s caught up with himself, Killua’s voice rises to tell him -

“Gonna take a shortcut – might get bumpy!”

Gon turns to look down the path again, and suddenly realizes that Killua is not turning to take the path. He’s ignoring the path entirely, ignoring the sharp drop they’re approaching – he’s gonna miss his chance to turn, they’re going to tumble down the mountain, they’re going to fall-

“Killuaa-AAAAAAA!”

Killua runs off the path.

At the last moment, Gon feels them dip, and then- they shoot up and out.

Killua springs from the side of the mountain. Then, they’re both weightless – sailing in an arc of light through the air, Gon gasping, clinging desperately even though he knows Killua would never drop him. He looks down. Nothing but trees below them.

“Killua!” Gon cries, a fluttering feeling rushing up his spine. Killua’s hands hold him tight and Gon loosens his hold enough to slap Killua’s shoulder a few times, as if he needs to get his attention. They’re falling towards the trees, and all Gon can think to do is call Killua’s name again, his tone raising in pitch as a strange giddiness steals over him. “Killua, Killua!” He calls, half laughing while Killua lets out a joyous whooping noise.

He’s pulled in tight against Killua’s chest, and as they descend Gon sees Killua’s sneakers angle out in front of him, preparing to land. The trees are so thick Gon can’t see the ground below.

Gon screams, but he’s not afraid. He’s exhilarated! He can’t remember the last time he’s done something so fun! The scream melts into wild, uncontrollable laughter.

Even as they fall towards pine-covered branches with alarming speed, Gon knows Killua has a plan. Unerringly, after crashing through a few thin branches, Killua’s feet find a sturdier branch to land on – but only for a moment. Gon hears a crack, knows they’re going too fast for the branch to take the weight of them, but by the time the sound reaches his ears Killua has already zipped off to another tree – and then another and another, ping-ponging from one to the next until they reach the ground again, and Killua still doesn’t stop. He’s laughing too, now. It’s loud in Gon’s ears – louder than the wind, than the crack of broken branches. His laughter and Killua’s is all he can hear.

Breathless again, Gon looks up at Killua, watches the way his eyes crinkle at the corners as he runs, laughing still. His fingers edge up into the back of Killua’s hair, and it tingles so much it almost hurts, but Gon doesn’t care. He can’t stop laughing, can’t stop smiling even though his ribs and cheeks hurt from so much joy.

It ends too soon.

Killua comes to a skidding halt, and they cling tighter to one another as their momentum continues to carry them through a several more steps even after Killua’s stopped glowing. Then at last, they stop.

Gon shakes with laughter still, all of his limbs trembling and unsteady even though he hadn’t been the one running. Killua drops his legs to wrap both arms around his middle, but Gon’s feet still don’t quite touch the ground as they hug tighter to one another, faces pressed cheek-to-cheek as they giggle and shiver and pant to catch their breath. Gon realizes that the thump against his chest isn’t just his own heart now. He can feel Killua’s too, with their chests pressed together.

Gon takes in a deep breath and pulls back. Killua’s hold loosens enough that he slides down, and finally he’s on his own feet. Gon slides one arm back, his hand moving up to cup Killua’s face. Killua’s hair has fallen down, no longer standing on end, and Gon chuckles as he brushes Killua’s bangs away from his eyes. One of Killua’s hands is at his waist. Gon could swear he hears and electric crackle, could swear he still feels a buzzing between them, like it’s not all grounded out of them yet.

Gon can’t resist kissing him this time. Fingers slide into Killua’s hair, around the back of his head before pulling Killua down to him, lips meeting firm and soft at the same time. Nor can he resist letting his tongue slide along Killua’s lips. It does taste different, he finds – like the air tastes right before big, heavy storm clouds roll in.

Killua hums, but Gon pulls back, looking around as he realizes something.

“Killua, we’re not in town.”

Killua snorts. “No, Gon. It’s just through there.” Killua points behind him. “Just didn’t want to scare the locals by crashing in all sudden like.”

“Ooh, okay…” Gon hums, then smiles. “I mean, they probably heard us, though, don’t you think? You were pretty loud.”

Killua’s hand shifts and Gon feels a teasing pinch at his side. “So were you! You were screaming as soon as I jumped.” Killua grins smugly. “You shoulda seen your face.”

Gon laughs and twists away from that hand, which soon settles back on his waist. “Mmm, yeah, guess I was. And you could’ve warned me better! I thought we were gonna fall down the mountainside going full speed like that.”

Killua scoffs. “Tch. So little faith, Gon. I’m hurt.”

Gon wrinkles his nose and sticks his tongue out.

Then, Killua’s expression softens. “You had fun though?”

Gon grins now, and nods. “Mm! Lots. We should do that again, Killua.”

“Haha, sure. But now it’s your turn to carry me, I think!”

Suddenly, Killua’s falling forward into him, the whole unfairly tall length of him becoming dead weight in Gon’s arms. Gon catches him, because of course he does, even if he has to stumble back a few steps to compensate for Killua’s height. Killua demands to be carried the rest of the way into down.

“It’s only fair!” He insists, even as Gon moans and complains and tells him to stop it. “C'mon Gooonnn. You love me, don’t you? Carry meeeee~”

Gon huffs, arms shifting to hold Killua differently, because he keeps slipping and Killua is doing nothing to support himself whatsoever. “Fine!” Gon agrees at last, smiling even as Killua snickers. “Fine, if you have to be carried, then-”

Gon dips down, and wraps his arms around Killua’s waist and upper thighs, then hoists him up, throwing Killua’s upper half over his shoulder as he turns in the direction of the town they’ll be staying in for the evening.

“Gon! Hahaa- Noooo, not like- What am I, a sack of potatoes?”

“No,” Gon replies, shifting and intentionally driving his shoulder a little into Killua’s stomach. “A sack of potatoes is much quieter and less spoiled.”

“Aah! Hahaha – less handsome, too.”

#hxh #hunter x hunter #killugon #killua zoldyck #gon freccs #fanfic #submission

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tashatoons · 8 years ago

Text

Paralyzed

Well I did it. Here’s my Grelliam Ficlett. Inspired by the the song “Paralyzed” by Mystery Skulls. Hence the super original title :P This is a first draft, so there may by typos. But yay! I did a thing! I’m open to constructive criticism, as I don’t write often but would always like to improve. If things aren’t clear or too round about in description, feel free to let me know what you think. Or just fan screen at me. lol I’m open to whatever XD

“SSSHHHIIIIIIVVV”

That satesfying metallic sound of William’s extandable death scythe pierced through the air before its clippers made contact with the wriggling tresses of cinematic record more than 50 feet before it. The scythe most certainly made up for its lack of showmanship with an impressive, unlimited range and percision. William made quick work collecting what remained of the record and turned to his subordinate with a freezing gaze.

“If you have time to daydream, I presume you must be done?”

Grell blinked. “Awah~! Just finishing up now!” And scrambled to finish collecting that pesky record.

He had a bad habbit of zoning out when William was around.

Not for lack of effort, of course! Quite the oposite, actually. Grell’s intention was always aimed to impress his boss. The boss Who just happened to be the man he had a huge crush on for the past 90 years. The boss who made his head feel stupid, and legs feel like jelly and heart beat like mad. That boss who he was once again, staring at like an idiot school girl who wandered into the wrong classroom because she was following the boy she liked.

“Sutcliff.”

“I’M DONE! I’M DONE!”

“Honestly.” He sighed, adjusting his glasses and the click click clack of his extendable scythe collapsed back into place. “This mission could have been done In half the time if you could keep your head on straight.”

Grell’s lip twitched into a grin. “Oh pleeeeease! As if I could keep ANYTHING straight.” He giggled at his own joke and waved a hand in the air dismissively.

William turned around and continued to adjust his glasses, perhaps in a vain effort to supress any sign of a smile.

It was a good joke after all.

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “If you’re done Than let’s be off. I’ll need the report and proper forms completed and on my desk before the end of the day.”

“Of course, darling!” Grell beamed as he bounded towards his boss, easily clearing the span of two rooftops In one leap.

“And by end of day I mean BEFORE 6pm.”

“Yeeeesss, yeeees.” Grell sang, linking an arm around William’s.

He tensed. “Do try to remain professional, Sutcliff.” He spoke, pulling his arm from the subordinates vice like grip. “We’re still on the clock.”

“Mmm-hmmm~” he giggled as his mouthed turning up into that classic shark toothed grin. “Telling me to do my homework AAAAAND follow the rules. Ooohh~ teacher might have to give me a de~ten~tion ♡”

William’s eyebrow twitched. “Must you turn everything into an innuendo?” He retorted, grabbing Grell’s animated hand before it could poke his chest a 4th time.

Grell’s cheeks suddenly felt incredibly hot. There was a great chance to make a second joke there, but the 2 second interaction of William grabbing his hand made him momentarily forget how to speak English.

So he giggled stupidly and turned away. Gosh his hands were big. They fit perfectly around his. William could probably crush him in his grip without even trying.

“SUTCLIFF!”

William’s voice broke the red reaper out of the daydream again. This behavior was going to reflect poorly against him, he knew it–

“What was that?” Grell snapped back into reality as something wizzed past.

It was hard to make out, but that stench was unmistakable.

A demon.

“When did THAT thing get here?” The redhead growled, letting his voice fall into it’s more serious lower regester.

“I don’t know. I just now noticed it.” William’s voice remained it’s usual monotone, but his posture shifted into a defensive stance.

There was an unnatural silence around the two reapers. The kind of silence they knew all too well when a demon was on the prowl. Not birds, no humans, not even wind. It was close.

“BEHIND YOU!” Grell warned, twisting around to swing at the inky blur that materialized behind his boss.

The chainsaw roared to life as it shot forth with pinpoint precision inches from William’s left arm. He himself had heeded the warning, turning to block the oncoming attack with his clippers.

The demon shrieked as the chainsaw’s teeth snagged at its body.

The attack wasn’t close enough to cause any real damage, but it was enough to hurt.

“Blast! It’s fast!” Grell barked under his breath and turned on a dime. His senses had conpleatly shifted into hunter mode; Leave it to a demon to bring out the serious side of things.

The air around the two reapers felt charged with static electricity, causing pops and shrill whistles to form on the stagnant air. Soon, That beast was going to show itself.

The roof shingles settled and that was all they needed to know before instinctually leaping to the next rooftop.

Actually, William was a few seconds slower than Grell. Having spent more time behind a desk than on the field, his reflexes were not as sharp as they could have been. Just a few seconds made all the difference.

The creature burst from underfoot, sending William toppling head over heals from the shockwave.

Grell landed unscathed and zipped around with lightning speed, weapon at the ready.

“Are you hurt, darling?” Grell teased as William landed a few paces behind, having righted himself before the land.

“Tch. I’m fine.” He sighed, the air around him whipping as his scythe spun into its defensive grasp. “Did you forget a soul on the list??”

“WHAAAT!?” Grell shrieked, his voice cracking. “How can you accuse me of such a thing?!”

“Easily.”

The demon swung at them with a long, slender arm which they both avoided.

“I got every one! I know it!” Grell wined, heals clicking onto the new rooftop.

“Martin Fordwan?” Will checked his soul ledger, avoiding the demon as he read off the list of names.

“Yeees!” Grell ducked a clawed swipe.

“Quinneth McGain?”

“Ugh! Could not forget that one!” He groaned, swinging the chainsaw around to lop off the demon’s finger as they continued to fall back In pace. “That one HAD to go. Her fashion sense was HORRID!” The chainsaw revved, drowning out some choice descriptors of the unfortunate soul’ wardrobe.

The two reapers landed on the last low rooftop in the town, brick wall blocking their path. Up was the only possible direction to go, less face the beast head on.

“Gregory Forges.” William Glace from his soul ledger to the brick wall. It was tall, even for a reaper’s jumping abilities.

The demon rushed forward, sliding over the towns rooftops like an inky wave; It’s once faceless form now revealing a giant maw of jagged, sharp teeth. The thing lunged, causing the reapers to jump over it.

“Who?” Grell questioned, not hearing correctly over the demon’s commotion. The chainsaw revved and lopped off an unnamed appendage.

“Greg- Ahh!” William blocked an oncoming attack. This demon was somehow able to grow limbs all over its body, making it quite difficult to dodge. The extendable clippers shot forth and charged through a row of incoming limbs. The demon roared, and Grell didn’t hear the name again.

“WHAT?” Grell yelled from the other side of the inky mass, holding a hand up to his ear. Pinky out, of course.

The clippers shot forth, percing the floor right by Grell’s shoes. Within seconds, William was beside the subordinate, having used the scythe retraction to pull I’m forward.

“Gregory. Forges.” William spoke coldly, his eyes bearing down on Grell like two stabbing icicles.

Grell shivered. Oh, those eyes made his feel weak all over. If it weren’t for the commotion of the demon appraising, he would be lost in William’s gaze for sure! “Uh! Of course I did!” Grell’s voice was uncarictaristically shakey as he summoned his own soul ledger to leaf through. “See! I told you I-”

William’s brow twitched.

Grell gulped. “I…” and glanced to the side, ears burning. “I missed it.” He mumbled under his breath.

The demon roared.

“You WHAT?!”

“I MISSED IT!” Grell shrieked, stomping a heal and turning away embarrassed. At this point his face was the same color as his hair. “It’s ok! I know where it is!”

“For your sake, you had better.” William signed, his jaw clenching. “This will be more paperwork for the both of us to deal with.”

“S-sorry, Will.”

The boss signed, “Honestly. Just collect the damn thing before this creature does.” His teeth clenched as he blocked an oncoming attack. "I’ll keep it occupied. Go!“ He pulled his death scythe back, forcing the demon to lunge towards him, perfectly lining it up for a stab through its hideous face.

Grell was gone before Will’s scythe stabbed the creature, and the thing’s cries confirmed his attack was true. Grell chewed on his bottom lip, the thought of his darling man holding off a demon just for his beloved maiden. "Ah! Knock it off!” Grell barked to himself, forcing his head back into reality. “This is for work. Just for work.” He sighed as he landed on the cobblestone street. It was nice to fantasize, but this required full attention. Something Grell severaly lacked when working with Will.

“Come on, where are you?” The reaper’s heals clicked along the path as his eyes scanned the area. It should have been here. Leaping atop a roof to get a better view, Grell once again checked the soul ledger. That damn name remained unchecked. Collections were not going to let him hear the rest of this. “Dammit! Where is this bloody thing?!” Grill was starting to grow anxious. The soul should have been here! Right here! If the soul was missing it could only mean one thing.

“Shit!”

A Second demon charged from underfoot, sending the desperate reaper onto his rear. It had the soul in it’s long, tooth mouth. The cinematic records tenderils churning and whipping about. The inky mass climbed atop the roof, somehow struggling to keep the tendrils from escaping it’s own maw and it bit and spat stupidly as the records struggled against it.

“Humph! Took more than you could handle, huh?” The reaper’s gloved hand tightened on the death scythe’s handle and it’s engine roared to life. “Let me show you how it’s done!” And he leapt forth like a red bullet. To the human eye it would have simply appeared as a flash of light, thought in truth, the chainsaw sliced straight through the demon’s neck, severing it’s head completely. The thing screamed a blood chilling cry and it’s head fell against the shingled rooftop like a sac of rice; It’s jaws going slack.

Grill turned on a dime and faced the creature, his beloved chainsaw dripping with black, stinking blood. “Ugh! You’re certainly no treat to look at.” He scowled, bringing a hand up to his nose. “or smell for that matter. Ehhh Yuuuck!” The reaper let out an over dramatic full body cill before bringing the scythe forward to collect the record. He only got about half of it when something knocked him off his feat, causing an effeminate yelp to squeak out of him.

“Wha!?” Grell saved himself from face planting right there and turned with lightning speed. “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!”

The Demon had grown a new head, and it was on it’s way towards it’s mate, half of a cinematic record in it’s brand new jaws.

Grell’s sharp teeth clenched, the grip on the death scythe tightened and his own eyebrow started to twitch with irritation. This was just NOT his day. “FFF!!! Stop making me look bad INFRONT OF WILL!!”

William blocked an attack while simultaneously tearing off yet another limb. He’d lost track at this point and wasn’t aware of the second guest headed straight for him. Until he heard Grell’s voice. He sounded…serious?

The entire incident happened in an instant. William hadn’t enough time to react, the last thing he saw was the demon’s mate, charging forth and somehow connecting with it’s body. William felt a stone drop in his gut before a tremendous impact sent him hurling backwards.

“WILL!” Gell changed course, running to shake his unconscious supervisor’s shoulders. “Will! Will! Wake up!.” He knelt down and helped the man into a sitting position, his stern eyes flickering open. Grell reached into his inner vest pocket and held a handkerchief to Will’s bleeding forehead.

Will was dazed from the blow. Gell’s voice sounded distant and muffled, but William knew he was right infant of him. “Uh…wha?” He must have hit his head pretty hard. He wanted to tell Grell he was fine, he would heal in just a minute, but his hand fall against the red reaper’s arm and his eyes met the same two toned pair that matched his.

“Grell. The record.” He could hardly hear his own voice. “Get the record.” He forced himself more upright, clutching the damp handkerchief to his head. “I’m fine, get the record.”

“You’re not fine, you stubborn man!.” The sound of worry lingered on Grell’s voice as he helped his boss to his feet. “You’re bleeding.”

“You’re worried about THAT?” Will chided, leaning against his subborninate for just a moment to regain his balance. Did Grell’s hair always smell like roses?

The demon roared.

“What the ff-“ Grell’s voice was drowned out by the beats battle cry. What once was two was now one create, double the size, double the heads, both tearing at what was left of the cinematic record.

Grell growled and started forward, but William held him back.

“That thing is much too powerful to take on! I’m calling for backup!.”

“What!? We don’t have time for that!” Grell pushed William’s arm aside and started forward, chainsaw revving. “I’m getting that record and killing this thing myself!” And he lept forth, slashing straight into the creature’s belly.

The thing screamed and turned one hundred red eyes on it’s attacker. Grell was fast, zipping around the creature’s body like a lightning bug. The chainsaw roared and slashed through it’s gelatinous, black blood. Hacking and sawing at any part it could reach.

“THIS IS WHAT YOU GET!” Grill huffed, leaping into the air towards the second head. “FOR HURTING”

Slash

“MY!”

SLASH

“MAN!!”

The chainsaw’s teeth stabbed right trough the beast’s forehead, Pushing into the bone and sinew and muscle with ever ounce of the reaper’s strength. Putrid black blood shot forth, staining the beautiful red clothes in it’s thick viscous sludge. Grell’s teeth clenched, Pushing the blade of the chainsaw deeper into the creators brain. “Die!” The thing gurgled and spat, hanging on with every once of it’s being.

A dark tendril whipped forth, whipping Grell square in the gut and a second right under the chin. The attack cought him off guard and he lost his footing, falling back onto the rooftop in a pile. There was a snap, and when Grell hit the ground, the sound of tiny beads scattering around him coused his breath to hitch.

He scrambled to his hands and knees. But Something was off. Everything was blurry. He frantically reached a hand to his eyes and confirmed the worst. His glasses were missing. That sound of marbles falling around him wasn’t shingles breaking, it was his glasses chain snapping and scattering all about.

“Shit!” Grell felt a sinking feeling in his gut. He couldn’t see a thing infant of him, and the demon was approaching quickly. The thing was angry! One head hung limp at it’s side while the other bared a maw so hideous, Grell was almost releaved he couldn’t see it.

Grell felt around for his scythe. If he could grab it, he could atleast stand a chance. He scooted backwards, eyes staring blindly ahead. The inky blob before him reared up in preparation for a final attack. Gell’s breath hitched. The creature screamed and lunged forward.

Silence.

Grell opened his eyes, the ting wasn’t moving. Then he heard it. The clack clack clack of William’s clippers pulling back from piercing straight through the creature’s head. William pulled the clippers from the thing’s skull and it’s body fell lump onto the ground, it’s body immediately sizzling and melting into a pool of dark goo.

“W-Will?” Grell squinted at the blurry Will shaped figure walking towards him.

“That was incredibly rash and irresponsible, Sutcliff. Will’s reprimand was much calmer than usual. “You didn’t think that through at all and could have cost me even more paperwork had you not succeeded.” A blurry shape appeared before Grell’s vision and he reached out to touch it. A hand?

William pulled his subordinate to his feet and stared down at him before gently placing a pair of red glasses on his face. “Thank you for your effort, Grell Sutcluff.”

Grell’s mouth dropped open. “Uhh…you…too.” That handsome face suddenly coming into focus was probably the highlight of the assignment. Those cold eyes staring straight into his own, the soft expression, the hand. Oh, he was still holding Will’s hand, and Will wasn’t pulling away. Gell’s eyes widened and his heart felt like it might leap out of his chest. “W-Will…” He whispered, leaning towards him stupidly.

“Collect the other half of the record.”

“GAH!” Grell snapped out of it and reluctantly let go, gulping and feeling his face heat up once again. “So cold…” he sighed dreamily, trudging to the other end of the roof to collect the pesky thing.

———

“OI! What happened to you?!” a chipper blonde reaper poked his head around from a cubical and chuckled at his Senior officer.

Grell had been completely disheveled by that vial beast’s blood and guts, it would be terribly unladylike to go back to work looking like a sewer rat. Aside from being told by management to send the clothing to laundry, Grell had to change into the standard black suit and tie ensemble, with a red ribbon taking the place of a boring black tie. “It’s only temporary.” He groaned while sitting down at his desk, hair still damp from the shower. “My poor coat’s a mess, laundry better not muck it up!”

“Hah! For your sake I hope it doesn’t shrink any more! Then you’ll only have a finger to wear it on!”

“SHUT IT, YOU LITTLE—“ Grell swiped at Ronald playfully, knowing full well the pup was only teasing. The two chuckled and bantered lightly until a pile of paperwork was plunked onto Grell’s desk. The Reaper’s grew silent.

“From Upper management. Mr. Spears says ‘ee wants these filled out an’ on ‘is desk by 6PM.” A slim, blonde from general affairs spoke apologetically.

“What?!?! But that’s only 2 hours from now! He really expects this to be done by theeeeennnn?” Grell wined and leaned back on his chair, defeated.

“S’wat ee said.” The blonde ducked her head and walked away.

Ronald whistled. “Geez, Spears really screwed you this time?”

“I wish he’d screw me a different way.” Grell mumbled.

“What?”

“What?” Grell blinked, turning his attention to the paperwork at hand.

Two hours was not enough time to finish all of this. It left almost no time for slacking off and fixing makeup!

————

“You’re working late, Ron?” Grell stretched both arms over head and leaned back against the office chair, letting his back crack with a satisfied sigh.

“Ehh, more or less. Susie’s having a little get together at the pub ‘round 7. Figured I’d stick around to walk with her.” The younger reaper grinned and leaned in to speak lower. “We’ve been….seeing each other, if you know what I mean.”

“Weren’t you seeing a Terisa two weeks ago?”

“Ehh! Things didn’t work out with her.” Ron shook his head. “Too high strung ‘bout certain things ya know?” Ron squinted. “Total prude. Didn’t even wanna move past snoggin’.”

Grell coughed. “Right.” And stood holding the completed pile of paperwork against his chest.

“Oi. You wanna join us tonight?” Ron asked, brows raised. “It’ll be a bunch of us. Not just me ’n ol’ Susie.”

“As long as my normal clothes are out of the wash by then. I feel absolutely dreadful in this getup.” He sighed. “That’s in what, an hour?”

“Uhh…fifteen minutes.”

“It’s 6:45?” Grell tried not to sound panicked.

“Did you forget to wind your clock?” Ronald turned his head. Grell was gone.

—————

The red reaper zipped through the hallway towards William’s office. Again he screwed up, after trying to years to impress him. Desk work was just NOT his strong suit. If Grell was LUCKY William may just give a lecture. Nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. It would be fine.

“Grell Sutcliff!” William didn’t even glance up from his paperwork as Grell walked into the supervisor’s office. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I know I know!” Grell huffed and tiptoed up to William’s desk, a nervous smile plastered on his blushing face. “But I finished it! I worked really hard to get it all done! Really Will, 2 hours wasn’t nearly enough time!”

“Clearly. Hence your extra 45 minutes.” He finally looked up from his paperwork and locked eyes with Grell, causing a visible shiver through his body.

“You are an absolute slave driver, Will.” He grinned, wiggling from the spark of energy rushing through him. “Ohh, it drives me wild!”

“My shift was supposed to be over at 6:30 today, you know.” He stood, tapping the small folder of documents on the desk to straighten them.

“Mine toooo! Come on Will, I finished my work.” Grell wined and leaned down to drop the heavy folder of paperwork on the supervisor’s desk. He hadn’t noticed a part of his ribbon cought between the founders and pulled itself undone when the folder was let go. “Might I add we got back later than expected! Be grateful a lady saved you!”

William had walked around his desk to face Grell, a tall towering cold expression loomed overhead, causing Grell’s ears to heat up.

“I am.” William’s eyes fell to the undone ribbon around Grells neck. “Though I believe I helped you as well in the end.” His hands reached up to retie the ribbon and a swarm of butterflies erupted in Grell’s stomach.

“Uh…heh. Yes. A true knight in shining armor come to rescue his damsel in distress.” Grell smiled dumbly and batted his eyelashes, cheeks flaring at William’s small gesture.

“Honestly.” William’s nimble fingers tugged at the freshly tied ribbon, making sure it sat perfectly straight. “You’re more than capable of defending yourself.”

“Also true.” Grell’s expression went soft, he felt that if he said anymore those butterflies would surely swarm out of his mouth.

“You handled that demon better than expected.” Will’s weight shifted forward ever so slightly and his eyes locked onto Grell’s.

Grell shivered. His own body inching forward as well, one hand reaching up to touch Will’s shoulder. His hands were still on the ribbon after all. “W-Will…”

There was nothing more than needed to be said before their lips were drawn to one another. The kisses were chased at first but quickly grew deeper as years of pent up tension finally melted in this desperate moment. Will’s hands gripped Grell’s slender waist and Grell pulled him closer, their breaths hitching with abandon and unrestrained passion. Grell drank the William’s kisses like precious water in a scorching desert’s heat. Time was lost to them and Grell was being pushed against the edge of Will’s desk; His hands gripping the back of Will’s jacket as if to never let him go. Will’s hands lifted the red reaper by the waist to sit on the edge of the desk, causing an effeminate gasp to fall from his lips.

The folder of paperwork toppled from the desk and hit the floor with a thud causing both reapers to jump. Suddenly, reality hit Grell like a train at top speed. He had just made out with Will.

“OH!…” Grell’s eyes widened as he turned back to face Will. “I….I’m s-sory that wa—Oh my.” His head spun with the awkward mix of emotions when one unexpectedly kissing their boss.

The two reaper’s knelt to puck up the spilled paperwork. “I’ll g-get this.”

“It’s fine I’ve —.” Their hands reached for the same page, and for a moment, the two of them did nothing to rectify the matter.

William cleared his throat. “Thank you Sutcliff, I’ve got this.”

Grell didn’t really understand what any of that meant, he just scrambled to pick up the rest of the pages and handed them off to William. Both of their hair was a bit of a mess from the incident that just occurred; at least Grell’s bow looked perfect.

“I should p-probably go…” Grell stuttered, handing off the handful of files to Will’s hands. Their figures brushed and Grell really needed a glass of water.

William didn’t answer, he remained stone faced and unreadable.

“Ahhh…Ok! Uh…See you t-tomorrow.” And Grell awkwardly shuffled out of the office, eyes wide and face burning. He wasn’t even sure if the incident had actually happened. Maybe he imagined it. Wouldn’t be the first time. Though the memory of Will’s hands lifting him onto the desk had him pinching his nose.

“Oi, Seinor! You comin?” Ronald waved by the office exit, a pretty blonde by his side.

“I’ll meet you there.” Grell squeaked quickly, picking up the freshly laundered pile of clothes on his desk.

“Everything ok? Spear’s wasn’t too rough with you, was ‘ee?”

Grell shivered, a stupid smile stretching across his face. “Not at all.”

#grelliam #william t. spears #grell sutcliff #fanfiction #kuroshitsuji #drabble #short fic #might add to this????#i honestly never know what pronouns to use for grell. i just used he because it's what yana uses.#shrug #duckie attempts to write

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